Sweet Revenge
by ESTF
Summary: When Massie Block's life is threatened, her brothers turn to the only person they could trust her life with — Derrick Harrington, elite FBI agent with the killer looks and skills. As an electrifying attraction grows between the two, so does danger.
1. Prologue

**This story has been itching to be written for a few days now. So, I decided to publish it and work with it while I get rid of my writer's block with Here We Go Again 2. Here's the full summary:**

**Massie Block, hotel heiress, belongs to a wealthy upperclass family living in New York City. She is the youngest of William Block and Kendra Hamilton's children. When Massie Block's life is threatened by a mysterious and deranged person who is obsessed over her, her brothers turn to the only person they could trust their sister's life with. Derrick Harrington, an elite hardcore FBI agent with the killer looks, devastating smile and kick-ass skills that sent criminals behind bars at the same time sent women clinging to him. He was also Spencer's best friend since high school and was almost family to them. Derrick tracks the predator who is closing in on Massie. Now, as an electrifying atrraction grows between Massie and Derrick, so does the danger—and one false move will cost both of them everything that matters.**

**This chapter isn't the official beginning. This is just a Prologue and a very long one, it is. I do hope you'll like this story**

**I own nothing but the plot. **

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Prologue

The first day of middle school at the exclusive Octavian County Day Middle School was the worst day of Massie Hamilton Block's life. It was such a disaster she made up her mind not to go back.

She had started out the day believing the new school would be wonderful. And why not? She'd been told by her brothers and mother, and she had not reason to doubt them. Seated in the back of her family's limo for the ride to OCD, she proudly wore her school uniform, a navy blue and gray plaid pleated skirt; a white blouse with mandatory pointed collar; a navy blue tie knotted just like a man's tie; and a matching gray blazer with pretty gold emblem of the school's initials on her breast pocket. Her wavy auburn hair was pinned back with school-approved, navy blue barrettes. Everything she wore was brand-new, including her white knee-high socks and navy blue loafers.

Her mother was supposed to ride with her to the new school, just like other mothers—and sometimes even fathers—of new students did, but due to circumstances she assured her she couldn't control, her mother had to stay in London for an imperative meeting and couldn't get back to New York City in time.

When Massie spoke to her mother over the phone two days before, she'd told her she didn't need Mrs. Tyler, the housekeeper, to take her to school. Her mother had then suggested Aiden. Massie knew that if she asked her oldest brother, he would have done it. He was seventeen and wouldn't like going with her, but he would have. . .if she had asked. He would do anything for her, just like her other brothers, Spencer and Adam.

Massie decided she didn't want anyone to walk her to her classroom anymore since she was in middle school now not preschool. She was a big girl now. The uniform she wore proved it, and if she got lost, she'd simply ask help from one of the smiling teachers.

School, as it turned out, wasn't at all what she had imagined. No one told her that the classes at Briarwood were so long and boring and that she had to endure almost every minute being messed by a bully. There was one older girl in particular who liked to torment the younger ones when the teacher wasn't looking. She was most certainly not warned that _that _bully would be waiting for her after classes and breaks to tease her.

By the time the school bell rang to dismiss the students at three o'clock that afternoon, Massie was so distraught and worn out she had to bite her lower lip to keep from crying.

There were cars and limos lined up in the circular drive. Evan, her driver, got out of the car and started toward her.

Massie spotted him but was too tired to run to him, so he hurried toward her, alarmed at her appearance. Her barrettes were dangling on strands in her face; her necktie was undone; her shirttail was out, and one of her knee-socks was down around her ankle. The twelve-year-old looked as if she'd gone through a tumble cycle in the clothes dryer. Evan opened the back door for her as he inquired, "Everything all right, Massie?"

Head down she responded, "Yes."

"How was school today?"

She dove into the car. "I don't want to talk about it."

That specific question was asked again by the housekeeper when she opened the front door for her.

"I don't want to talk about it." Massie repeated.

The housekeeper took her book bag. "Thank you." Massie said. She ran up the circular staircase and down the south hallway to her bedroom, slammed the door shut, and promptly burst into tears.

Massie knew she was a disappointment to her mother because, try though she did, she couldn't keep her emotions under control. If she fell and scraped her knee and it stung, she just had to cry, no matter where she was or who was around to observe her behavior.

When she was unhappy, she broke all the rules her mother had tried to teach her. Massie had been told time and again to be ladylike, but she wasn't sure what that entailed, except, of course, to keep her knees together when seated in a chair. She didn't like to suffer on silence, no matter how golden that rule was in the Block household. She didn't particularly care about being brave either, and if she was miserable, then her family needed to hear all about it.

Unfortunately, the only family member home at the moment was Aiden. He was the least sympathetic in the family, probably because he was the oldest, and couldn't be bothered with the worries of a twelve-year-old. He hated it when she cried, but that didn't stop her.

She blew her nose, washed her face, and changed her clothes. After she took off her uniform, she carefully folded it and dropped it into the wastebasket. Since she wasn't going back to that terrible school, she wouldn't need those ugly clothes ever again. She put on shorts with a matching top and broke yet another rule by running barefoot down the hall to her brother's room.

She timidly knocked on the door. "Could I come in?"

She didn't wait for an answer but opened the door, ran across the room to his bed, and jumped on the soft comforter he always tossed on the floor when he slept. Folding her legs underneath her, she pulled the dangling, school-approved barrettes from her hair and dropped them in her lap.

Aiden looked irritated. Dressed in his rugby clothes, he was sitting at his desk, surrounded by textbooks. She didn't notice he was on the phone until he said good-bye and hung up.

"You're supposed to wait until I say it's okay for you to come in my room." He said. "You don't just barge in." Then, when she didn't respond, he leaned back in his chair, studied her face, and asked, "Have you been crying?"

She thought about it and decided to break another rule. She lied. "No." She said, her gaze glued to the floor.

He knew she wasn't telling the truth but decided not to press the honesty issue now. His little sister was clearly distraught. "Is something wrong?" He asked, knowing full well there was.

She wouldn't look at him. "Nooo. . ." She said, drawing the word out.

He let out a loud sigh. "I don't have time to guess what the problem is, Massie. I'm going to have to leave for practice in a couple of minutes. Tell me what's wrong."

She lifted her shoulders in a shrug. "Nothing's wrong. Honest."

She was making circles with her fingertips on top of the comforter. Aiden gave up trying to find out what was worrying her. He bent down and put on his shoes. He suddenly remembered that today was Massie's first day at OCD and casually asked, "How was school?"

He was totally unprepared for her response. She burst into tears and threw herself down, burying her face in his comforter and conveniently wiping her eyes and her nose on his duvet. She told him everything she'd been saving up since recess. The problem was, she didn't make a lick of sense.

It all came out in one long, rambling, barely coherent sentence. "I hate school and I'm never going back, not ever, 'cause there was this girl who kept on teasing me and plucking out my hair and tossing my bag around because there was this cute boy—his name is Carter—who was talking to me and then, offered to bring my bag and my books to my locker and then walk me to my next class. Then, this girl comes and whispers something to Carter and then, Carter handed—no, he shoved the books and my bag into my arms and then he told me, 'Later', and I've never seen him after that. But this girl she kept following me to my classes and even sat with me at Lunch with another girl—this other girl was nice and she's mostly in my class—named Sophie and she kept bugging me and taking my lunch and then she kept telling me that tomorrow will be more fun than today. Now I'm never going back to that bad school because she told me that if I ever talk to one of her _boys_, she'll kill me."

Aiden was astonished. Massie was wailing for all she was worth. Had she not been so miserable, Aiden would have laughed. Such drama. She got the trait from the Hamilton side of the family. All the Hamiltons wore their emotions on their sleeves. He and Spencer and Adam fortunately took after the Block side. They were far more reserved.

Massie was making so much noise Aiden didn't hear the knock on the door. Spencer and Adam came rushing inside. Both brothers were tall, lanky and had auburn hair like Aiden and Massie. Spencer was sixteen, and of the three brothers, he had the softest geart. Adam had just turned fifteen. He was the daredevil in the family and the most reckless. He looked as if he'd been through a war. His arms and face were full of bruises yet despite these, his great looks were still evident.

Adam was now looking for bruises on Massie. None were visible, so why then was she crying? "What'd you do to her?" His accusation was directed at Aiden.

"I didn't do anything." Aiden answered.

"Then what's wrong with her?" Adam asked. He leaned over the bed and inspected his little sister, unsure what to do.

Spencer nudged him out of his way, sat down next to Massie and began to awkwardly pat her shoulders.

She was finally calming down. Aiden let out a loud sigh. Maybe the storm was over. He finished tying his shoes as he said, "There, she's feeling better. Just don't ask her about—"

"So how was school?" Adam asked at the same time.

The wailing started all over again. "—school." Aiden finished. He lowered his head and turned toward the desk so that his sister wouldn't see him smile. He didn't want to hurt her tender feelings, but God, was she loud.

"She had a bad day." Aiden told the obvious to his brothers.

"You think?" Spencer responded.

Massie stopped crying long enough to say, "I'm not going back there."

"What happened?" Adam asked.

Massie recited her litany of complaints in between her sobs.

"You have to go back." Spencer said.

It was the wrong thing to say. "No, I don't."

"Yes, you do." Spencer disagreed once again.

"Daddy wouldn't make me go."

"How would you know what he would do? He died when you were a baby. You can't possibly remember him."

"Yes, I can. I remember him well."

"Okay, if you remember him well, then you should know that he would want you to go to school and to study." Spencer told her. He had to raise his voice because Massie was crying once again.

"Damn, she's loud." Aiden muttered. He shook his head and added, "Okay. I'm going to be late for practice if I don't leave soon, so let's get to the bottom of this. Massie, stop wiping your nose on my sheets and sit up."

He tried to make his voice stern. Neither his order nor his tone made any difference to her. She wasn't going to stop crying until she was good and ready.

"Listen, Massie. You need to calm down and tell us what happened." Adam said. "What exactly did the big girl do?"

Spencer dug into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled Kleenex. "Here," he said. "Wipe your nose and sit up. Come on. We can't fix this problem for you until we know exactly what the big girl did, okay?"

Aiden was shaking his head. "Massie's going to fix the problem."

She bolted upright. "No, I'm not because I'm not going back to that school."

"Running away isn't the answer." Aiden said.

"I don't care. I'm staying home." She argued stubbornly.

"Hold on, Aiden. If some big bully is picking on our sister, then by God, we ought to. . ." Adam began.

Aiden raised his hand for silence. "Let's get all the facts straight first, Adam. Now, Massie," he said, his voice soothing, "how old was this big girl?"

"I don't know."

"Okay. What grade is she in?"

"Eighth grade. She's in eighth grade and her name's Tracy and she's mean." Massie sniffed.

"We've established that she's mean." Aiden said impatiently. He checked the time before continuing. "So now we're getting somewhere."

Spencer and Adam were both grinning. Fortunately, Massie didn't see.

"You said that this eighth grader—Tracy—started bugging you when this boy—"

"Carter." Massie interrupted.

Aiden nodded. "Carter walked you to your locker, right?"

Massie sniffed then nodded.

"Then, probably, Tracy liked Carter and when he started taking an interest on you—"

"And if he goes too far with that interest," Adam flexed his knuckles for dramatic effect, highlighting the threat while the other brothers nodded in fervent agreement.

But Aiden went on. "—maybe Tracy became jealous that her crush was crushing on someone else."

Despite the tears, Massie managed to blush. "Carter doesn't have a crush on me. He was just being friendly." She countered.

She was surprised when all her brothers laughed. "What's so funny?" She narrowed her eyes at them, growling. Her brothers coughed to hide their laughter.

Massie was always so clueless. She had always denied the fact that she was beautiful, a lie that everyone does not believe.

"You said there was this nice girl named Sophie who sat with you during lunch, right?" Aiden asked.

"That's right. She was really nice." Massie confirmed.

"There you go." Aiden said. "You've only been at the new school for one day, and you've already made a friend."

Believing the trauma was over, he grabbed his car keys and headed for the door. Adam stopped him. "Wait a minute, Aiden. You can't leave until we figure out what to do about the bully."

Aiden paused at the door. "You've got to be kidding. The bully is an eighth grader and a _girl_."

"We still need to do something to protect Massie." He insisted.

"Like what?" Aiden demanded. "You think maybe all three of us should go to school tomorrow and terrorize the kid?"

Massie perked up. "That'd be good." She said. "Make her leave me alone."

"Or," Aiden said, "you could handle the problem on your own. You could stand up to the bully. Tell her you aren't going to give her anything and to leave you alone."

"I want the first one."

Aiden blinked. "The first one?"

"The one where you and Spencer and Adam come to school with me and scare her. That's the one I choose. You could stay all day with me if you want."

"This isn't a multiple choice. . ." Aiden began.

Massie crossed her arms over her chest stubbornly. "It's that or I don't go at all."

They were amazed by her. She really was as stubborn as a mule.

"You know, Massie, there are two kinds of people in the world. Those who run from bullies and those who stand up to them." Aiden said, heading once again towards the door.

She wiped the tears away from her face. "What kind am I?"

Aiden turned to face her as his hand twisted the doorknob. He gave her a grin. "You're a Block. You face trouble. You don't run from anyone."

She watched her brother disappear behind the door, taking in what he just said. As realization and common sense dawned into her, she wiped the stupid tears away and her lips cracked into a smile.

Her brother was right. She was a Block. She doesn't run from trouble. She face trouble.

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**So, what do you think? **

**Tell me in your REVIEWS!!! =)))**


	2. Chapter 1

**I've been watching Ghost Whisperer for the last hours. I've spent those hours crying. **

**Thanks for the amazing reviews. I'll see if I'll include some of the characters. Keep those requests coming, okay? **

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Chapter 1

Inside the Met Gala, everyone who was anyone was there for the wedding anniversary of Mayor Geoffrey and Catherine George. Almost every important citizen was there including the controversial congressman with his redhead second wife and the governor who was surprisingly alone for tonight's event. Other famous personas were there, too. Everyone was laughing, chatting, enjoying and deciding on what precious artifact to bid on. It was 9 in the evening and the atmosphere inside the walls of the Met was filled with glamour, light and rhinestones but the night was just starting.

Everybody's attention turned to the doors as soon as the first set of whispers erupted. A young woman with the beauty and the confidence of a powerful goddess glided inside, capturing everyone's attention as fast as she made her first step. Her auburn hair was held with hairpins and a silver-stoned barrette. She wore a black strapless satin floor-length gown with rhinestones that glistened against the light and a long slit that ran up to her thighs, revealing her long legs. But that wasn't the reason why they couldn't stop staring—no, gawking—at her. Her eyes were of the richest amber color. They were mesmerizing and. . .familiar.

Massie Hamilton Block ignored the weird and ridiculous stares she was getting but couldn't help checking if she forgot to wear her dress. She sighed with relief when she disproved her assumption. She spotted the mayor and his wife, Geoffrey and Catherine George, in the middle of the hall, surrounded by people, and made her way towards them. Not that they haven't seen her. Everyone was following her every move with their eyes. Some bachelors, from 25 to 60, followed her with their feet. But she was completely unaware of that.

"Mayor George. Mrs. George." She greeted. "You probably have forgotten me. I'm—″

"Kendra Block's daughter. Massie." The mayor said with a smile and a nod.

Catherine smiled, too. "Yes. I recognize Kendra's eyes."

Massie kept her tears to herself. Hearing Catherine's compliment made her miss her mother who died right after Massie entered high school. Before she could conjure up those miserable memories again, Catherine interrupted her by saying, "How are you, dear? It's been so long since we've seen you. How old were you then? 13?"

Massie shook her head with a warm smile. "16. I went to Westchester to live with my grandmother. She died three years ago."

Catherine moved from her husband's side to give Massie a hug. "Aw. I'm so sorry, dear. But you're very lucky that you still have your brothers."

"Speaking of your brothers, Massie," the mayor interrupted, "do they know you're here? Last time I heard from Aiden, he told me he couldn't come because he's at France, Spencer's at Chicago and Adam's having his world tour. By the way, your brother's really gifted."

Massie chuckled. Her brother's talent in the football arena really wasn't a secret. "Yeah, well, Adam really is gifted and he knows that."

They laughed. Even those who were quietly eavesdropping laughed with them as if they were included in the conversation.

When the laughter died out, Massie sighed. "Actually, they don't know I'm here. I didn't tell them because I knew they were busy."

"Well, if you could still stay for one day, we would really like it if you come to our home for dinner tomorrow." Catherine invited with Geoffrey agreeing with a nod.

Massie politely refused the offer. "That would really be wonderful but I have to go back tomorrow. See, my friend's getting married and I'm her maid of honor." She explained, hoping they would understand.

Catherine frowned in disappointment. "That's too bad but we understand."

"Next time I'm in town, I promise I'll stop by for dinner." Massie said truthfully.

"With a husband by that time, I hope." Catherine joked.

Massie simply chuckled. She greeted them a happy-anniversary again before she stalked off to the buffet table.

As soon as a server gave her a glass of red wine, a familiar voice spoke behind her.

"Long time no see."

Massie turned around and found Bryan George, the mayor's only son, standing with a glass of wine between her fingers just a foot away from her. Her childhood friend grown up into a handsome man with a well-defined figure. They attended school together until Massie moved to her grandmother. Back then, he was already handsome and sought-after by girls their age even by high school ladies. He had the golden boy looks and was the captain of their lacrosse team. He and Massie also dated during their freshmen year at high school.

Massie smiled. "Bryan!" She was so happy to see him that she flung her arms around him and he almost staggered a step back.

Bryan chuckled. "I can say you've missed me." He whispered against her ear.

The way he held her, the way he whispered those words to her were too intimate for her. It was making her uncomfortable.

She tried to pull away when he wouldn't let her. He only tightened his grip possessively on her. She began to squirm from him, prying his hands off her while she gasped for air.

"Bryan, let _go_!" She growled at him. She hadn't meant to growl loudly but her frustration and impatience were overshadowing her party etiquette.

Several heads turned toward them, followed by whispers.

Bryan finally let go of her. Massie straightened her dress and managed a smile to the onlookers. When she was assured that no one was watching them, she turned back to Bryan who was grinning arrogantly at her.

She glared at him and walked away, determined to leave the party.

Bryan had the guts to follow her. "What? Now, you don't like me to touch you? We were just hugging. Hell, we used to do more than that before." He almost shouted that.

Massie made a sudden turn that Bryan almost slammed at her directly.

Massie couldn't stop glaring at him. "That was back then, Bryan. We dated. That's it. I moved on. You moved on. Let's just be friends. Okay?"

Bryan stared at her for so long. She met his gaze and gave him a cold stare of her own. It seemed hours, days but finally, he broke the stare-game.

"All right, I'll give you time to think." He moved to her, captured her hand and pulled her close. He leaned down and gave her a long, hard, passionate kiss that was intended to make her remember how it used to be. He didn't wait for Massie to kiss him back. He pulled away with a satisfied smile. "You will be dreaming of that tonight. You will think about me while I think about you." He sounded so sure, so confident.

Massie watched with astonishment as he sauntered off. He really was a bastard! How dare he kiss her in front of all these people?

Remembering their audience, she looked around and checked if someone witnessed their pleasant exchange. Well, pleasant to Bryan. Rude and offensive to her. Thankfully, there was none.

She sighed, relieved, and rushed out of the doors. At the other end of the red carpet, her limo was parked, waiting for her. After her _un_pleasant encounter with her not-too-serious-ex-boyfriend, all she wanted was to go home. By home, she meant her humble two-storey house with the most beautiful view of the lake at Westchester. She walked to her limo with a plan. When she gets to the St. Regis hotel—she didn't stay at the Hamilton because she didn't want the employees to know she was in the city and if they know, her brothers will probably be informed—, she'll pack her bags, get into her car, and drive back to the town she called home for almost a decade. No matter what it took. She would drive all night if she had to. Anything.

She was smiling when she opened the passenger door. But then it vanished.

She couldn't move. Her knees felt weak and felt like it couldn't support her long. Her hand that was still clutching the door was quivering. Her mind was spinning, she couldn't form one thought. She tried to calm her breathing and it took her much effort to do so. When she finally had her breathing in normal pace, she let out a loud scream.

From inside the Met Gala, Bryan heard a familiar scream. It was Massie's scream. Without bothering to excuse himself from Michelle, a beautiful blonde he just met, he broke into a run and found Massie standing in front of the passenger's side with her hand holding the door open. And then he saw _it_. He saw the body.

"Massie, call 911!" He told Massie and almost shoved her aside to give him room.

Almost half the entire guest was outside, following Bryan. They gasped and shrieked when they saw the dead body.

"What the heck is wrong—″ Mayor Geoffrey pushed pass the thread of people and when he saw the body, he turned to Bryan who was crouching over the body, checking for a pulse. "Bryan? What's happening here?"

Bryan didn't look at his father. His eyes were directed at Massie. "It's time to make that call, Massie." He told her. "He's dead."

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	3. Chapter 2

**I changed the title for some reasons. I think it's more appropriate. **

**Thanks for the reviews. Keep 'em coming. =))**

**I own nothing. **

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Chapter 2

Spencer Hamilton Block sat behind his desk in his twelfth-floor Chicago Hamilton Hotel office, buried in paperwork, documents and applications to sign.

His phone rang and he answered it at once.

"Spencer Block." He said with the phone wedged between his right cheek and right shoulder while he used his right hand to sign a budget proposal.

A man's deep voice answered him. "Mr. Block, this is Detective Lee from the NYPD. We would like to inform you that your sister, Miss Massie Block, is here in our precinct."

Spencer stopped writing. "What? My sister's _what_?"

"She has been branded as a target by a cunning and dangerous killer."

"She's been _what_?" Spencer couldn't understand nor believe what this detective was telling him. Her sister wasn't even at New York City. "My sister's not in New York City. She's in Westchester."

"No, sir. She's here." And with that, the detective hung up.

"Hello? Hello? _Hello?" _He glanced at the screen of his phone. "Damn it!" Immediately and almost knocking off a few files, he heaved himself off his chair and ran towards the door while he dialed the first person he thought of during these times.

"Harrington."

"Derrick, damn it! I need your help! My sister's in trouble. Where are you right now?" He asked as he passed by his bewildered secretary. "Carla, get my private plane ready. I'm flying to New York now. Make the calls."

"But, sir—″ His secretary began but he shouted, "Just do it!", at her.

"Spence, man, calm down." Derrick Harrington, elite FBI agent and probably the best in the field, said. "I'm in Detroit."

"I'm in Chicago. Meet me at the JFK Airport. I'm on my way to the airport right now. Massie's in danger." He said as he pushed the button in the elevator.

"Okay. Alright, man. I'll be there." They hung up.

Spencer then called his brothers and told them the three words that were enough to get them on the plane and back to New York no matter where they were.

"Massie's in danger."

***

The interview room was small, utilitarian, non-threatening with a wide rectangular mirror. On the other side of the mirror, several detectives were standing with their arms crossed over their shoulders, waiting. Inside the interview room, Massie Block waited almost impatiently for someone to tell her why she was brought to the Precinct from the Met where she could have been asked question of what she witnessed considering that she was a witness. But maybe the cops thought she was a suspect or worse the killer.

Her hands trembled and she forced them to stay still. She was still in mental shock, of course, but she didn't want to make a scene here at the Precinct. She took several deep breaths to calm herself though it did not do her any good.

"Miss Block."

She turned her head from her hands towards the big detective who entered the room, carrying a couple of folders with him. He sat down opposite her, folding his arms on the table, studying her with those cop eyes.

_Good grace, _Detective Robert Ahern thought, _she really was worth looking at._ Sensing that he was making her feel uncomfortable, he cleared his throat and introduced himself properly. "My name's Detective Ahern, homicide detective." He noticed that she flinched at the word _homicide_ and got preoccupied by how delicate those shoulders looked. Now, he couldn't help but stare at her, at _that_ perfect face waiting for him to speak.

Massie wanted to slap the detective's face. He was ogling at her! The pervert's eyes were trailing down her chest!

That was all she needed to lose her patience. She slammed her hand on the table, startling Detective Ahern. "Detective, if you're done sizing me up, I _demand_ you to tell me why I'm here. Or else, I'm calling a lawyer." She threatened with a glare.

Detective Ahern's eyes narrowed for a moment but he glanced at the tiny notebook he was bringing. "We found your driver, Ben Hopkins, at the alley a few blocks away. He was naked and unconscious. Paramedics checked him and saw that he was stabbed on his leg but the injury was minor so he'll live. Sadly, though, we can't get a straight answer from him since he's still a bit confused."

"Poor Ben." Massie murmured. He was so sweet to her.

"What time did you go to the party, Miss Block?" He asked her, getting her attention.

Massie groaned irritably. "I told the other detective and the few others who interviewed me. I'm not sure. But I didn't stay long because I had a misunderstanding with…um…a friend." She didn't mention Bryan's name.

Detective Ahern snorted as if he knew that she was lying about the "friend".

"Detective, if you have no other questions, I would really like to go to my hotel now." She said.

He shook his head with a cocky smile. "Not quite yet."

She sighed and settled in a more comfortable position on the stiff chair she was sitting on.

"Miss Block, do you know this person?" He asked, taking out a picture from his folder, and slid it towards Massie. "Her name's Lisa Harrison."

Massie looked at the photo of the woman and shook her head. "No."

"Okay." He took back the photo and retrieved a new one from the same folder. "How about Andrea Carton?"

Massie looked at the photo he shoved to her again and shook her head again. "No."

"Leanne Embrock?"

"No."

"Jenna Kendrick?"

"No."

"Melinda Garner?"

"No."

"Vivian Chamberlain?"

"No." She let out a sigh of impatience. "Detective, I don't see how I'm concerned with these people or why I'm questioned about them. I don't know any Lisa or Andrea or Leanne or Melinda or Vivian or the goddamn tooth fairy. So, if you could please tell me the reason why you're keeping me here and making me wait for almost two hours so that you could just ask me whether or not I know these people, I would be so damn grateful that I will actually send you a gift for Christmas." Her tone filled with sarcasm.

She didn't catch the amusement in Detective Ahern's eyes because he hid it quite expertly. If she wanted the truth straight out, then she'll get the truth straight out. He took out the crime scene photos from the earlier victims to the latest. "Lisa Harrison, 29, married with an eight-month-old baby girl, killed in her own apartment three weeks ago. She had multiple stab wounds on the stomach and her hair was scalped off viciously using a house knife. After four days, Andrea Carton, 25, single, owner of a flower shop near Central Park, was beaten in her apartment approximately around midnight. Her eyes were forcibly plucked out pre-mortem using a knife from her own kitchen. Leanne Embrock, 36, married with three boys, Marriot hotel manager, was found dead in the hotel parking lot near her car near midnight with a shot in the back of her head and multiple stab wounds identical to the ones of Andrea and Lisa." He kept going on relentlessly and insensitively. "Jenna Kendrick, 24, found dead in her home having the same stab wounds though swimming in a pool of her own blood and a flood of pictures of her older brothers. Melinda Garner, 20, NYU law student, found dead at the cemetery beside her parents' grave. Same stab wounds. Last week, Vivian Chamberlain, 25, Yale graduate, was reported missing a day after she arrived at her parents' house in Manhattan for their 50th anniversary. A week later, she was found dead with the same stab wounds and with her face cut so brutally that it was barely recognizable. She was found tonight outside the Met Gala. More specifically, Miss Block, in your rented Limo." He shoved all the gruesome crime scene photos towards her side of the table, propped his elbows on the table and folded his hands under his chin, leaving Massie staring at the bloody pictures.

As she looked at each photo, the knot in her stomach tightened until she was feeling nauseated and hyperventilating. She covered her mouth with her hand as she was about to vomit. Detective Ahern who was studying her and waiting for her to speak acted immediately and snatched the trash bin by the corner of the room and ran to Massie's side, holding out the trash can in the process. Massie finally pried her hand from her mouth and vomited in the can. It was an ugly, disgusting sound but she really didn't care.

"Get her some water!" Detective Ahern ordered directly at the mirror.

In six seconds, a uniformed cop rushed inside the interview room with a glass of water in his hand. Detective Ahern grabbed the glass from him and gave it to Massie who was finishing up.

"Thanks, Stevens." Detective Ahern said to the cop as he went back to sit on the chair across Massie.

"I'm sorry." Massie mumbled, wiping her mouth with the handkerchief Detective Ahern handed her.

The detective shrugged. "No problem."

"Detective," Massie cleared her throat, "how exactly do these deaths concern me? I don't know these women nor had I met them in the past. I really don't see the connection."

Detective Ahern leaned closer from across the table. "Mrs. Harrison had auburn hair almost identical to yours." He said as he showed her the pictures of the women while they were alive respectively. "Miss Carton had amber eyes like you do. Mrs. Embrock is—was—a _hotel_ manager. Jenna Kendrick was the youngest in her family and had three older brothers. Miss Garner's parents died when she was jus a child, leaving her to her grandmother who died a year ago. And Miss Chamberlain was a Yale graduate. She graduated the year before you did." He looked meaningfully at Massie. "Now, do you see the connection, Miss Block?"

Massie was too stunned to reply so she simply nodded.

"Obviously, someone's giving us a message through these deaths which, last week, we named as random deaths until tonight. I'm sure you understand _that _message now as well as we understand it." He paused, watching for her reaction.

"Someone wants me dead."

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**Yeah, girl, someone wants you dead. Definitely. **

**REVIEW, okay?**


	4. Chapter 3

**Sorry for the late update. Tomorrow's the last day of school and this week is exam week. So, yeah, I've been busy. After tomorrow, though, I won't be busy anymore. The only thing I'd be busy with is updating. **

**The reviews were amazing, btw. Please keep on reviewing. It lights up my day. **

**I own nothing.**

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Chapter 3

"Well, I must say, you're taking this awfully well." Detective Ahern remarked after a few minutes of silence.

Massie wanted to scoff really loud. _Awfully well_? Damn. If he would duck under the table, he would see her hands madly trembling on her lap. If he was half the cop she expected him to be, he would know that she was almost gnawing her lip to conceal the terrified scream threatening to come out.

Someone was after her. Not just after to have a conversation or an argument. Someone was after to _kill_ her.

What about her family? Her brothers? Her friends? Would they be in danger to? Thinking about them made her want to shout again. She can't believe someone wanted her dead. What's worst was she couldn't think of anyone who would want her dead. Well, David Stenner probably wanted her dead. That way, he would have his way and bring development into Westchester—if you call tearing down the historical, century-year-old town square development.

As a fleeting thought passed her mind, her head snapped up. "Oh, my God." She whispered almost to herself.

But that didn't escape Detective Ahern's hearing. "Beg your pardon?"

She shook her head as if she just realized he was sitting across her. Clearing her throat, she leaned forward, placing her hands on the table. "Detective, I've been receiving these anonymous calls. Every time I answer it, he hangs up. But two days ago, I was having coffee with a friend when Justin—he's the town's star quarterback of the high school football team—walked to my table and handed me a bouquet of white roses. Before he left, he told me that this guy driving a black Mercedes paused by the arcade where he and his friends were hanging out and gave him a hundred dollars in exchange of delivering the bouquet to me. So, he did. There was no card, no anything to identify who sent it to me. After a few seconds Justin left, my phone rang. It was _him_. I picked it up and he said—no, he _whispered_," she amended with an affirmative nod, "'A token from to express my undying love' and then, just like before, he hung up."

"And you're just remembering this now because…?" His expression was calm but Massie thought she saw a hint of anger and irritation in his eyes.

Massie shrugged. "It just came up. But, Detective, do you think he's the one committing these crimes?" She asked, worried.

He thought about if for a moment. "Well, there's a possibility. Most of the times, killers used to be stalkers, admirers-gone-mad, robbers, you get the picture. In this case, the one who's been leaving you those calls may simply be a fan or he may be the killer. But we're not taking chances here. The department will _check_, _investigate_, and _get_ into the bottom of this. He has proved to us that he's dangerous and lethal and is not your regular day-to-day murderer."

"Obviously." She muttered under her breath.

Detective Ahern pretended he didn't hear her. "I'm sending a squad over to your hotel room. The perp might've gone dropped by after his shopping." He said sarcastically. "I will also have someone to go over your phone records. But guessing this guy's expertise, he's smart enough not to use a listed number. In the meantime, though, I would like you to list every possible suspect here on this paper." He told her as he slid a piece of yellow paper and a battered, old pen across the table. "Let it be a woman, a man, a cat, a dog or a frog. List them all." He began to turn around and walk towards the door.

"Oh, and, Detective," she called to him.

His hand was already on the doorknob but he looked back. "Yes?"

"I need to go to the bathroom." She informed.

He looked bewildered as if he couldn't understand what she was saying because she was speaking gibberish. He scratched his head with a sigh. "Um,"

"What? I can't go to the bathroom and let out what I've been withholding since _you _withheld me here?" She knew it was an embarrassing and a rude thing to say especially in front of a New York City Police Department detective and probably a couple of the department from the other side of the mirror but the isolation was really getting in her nerves.

Detective Ahern blushed and cleared his throat. "Oh, um, yes." And in a more sure tone, he repeated, "Yes. I'll have someone direct you to the restroom."

Massie managed to smile. "Thank you." She stood up, and walked out of the room with Detective Ahern closing the door behind her.

He snapped his fingers at his red-haired, jumpy secretary. "Lorrie, show Miss Block the bathroom." He ordered in a brusque tone that the Lorrie jumped at the sound of it.

"Yes, Detective. This way, Miss Block." She said in a low, worried voice.

Massie smiled gently at her and Lorrie couldn't help but smile back.

Once inside the small, foul-smelling, three-cubicle bathroom, Massie let out a sigh of relief. Damn, she needed a time alone. She eyed the dirty sinks with disgust but shrugged. "What the hell?" She muttered, twisting the faucet and felt comforted at the sound of the water rushing down. She cupped her hands under the faucet and splashed her face with water. The cold water was definitely inappropriate during temperatures such as this but now when she was an inch away from breaking down, she needed a good feel of cold water. And maybe some cucumbers.

She closed the faucet and tore a piece of tissue from the container, drilled against the wall on her right. She dried her hands with it and tossed it towards the trash bin before she stepped out the bathroom and closed the door behind her.

As soon as she was out, she scanned the place for Lorrie and found her sitting behind her desk. Massie crossed her way towards Detective Ahern's secretary's table. "Excuse me," she said politely. "I'm sorry." She added when Lorrie jumped, startled, at the sound of her voice.

Lorrie clutched her heart. "Oh, Miss Block, it's you." She said and smiled. "Can I get you anything? Coffee? Doughnuts?"

"No. I'm not hungry." Massie told her. "Actually, what I need is my cell phone. I need to call my brothers and tell them what happened. I'm positive they'll strangle me if they hear it from the news instead from me."

"Oh." She glanced around as if she was uncertain. "Your purse was taken by the crime scene department. They need it for the investigation, I hope you understand." She explained with an apologetic grin.

She suppressed a groan. "Of course, I do." She lied. Ugh. They took her cell phone. What next? Her La Perla thongs? "Lorrie, do you have a phone that I could use? It's really imperative that I call them."

Lorrie didn't think twice. "Of course, Miss. I'll get it for you."

"Thank you."

While Lorrie searched for her cell phone, Massie waited patiently, standing in front of her desk.

"Oh, great. You're back." She recognized Detective Ahern's sarcastic voice and, assuming that he was referring to her, she turned around, expecting him to be facing her.

But he wasn't.

He was staring—glaring at the stranger who just stepped out of the elevator. Massie watched as the two met each other, shook hands and whispered to each other.

The stranger talking to the displeased detective captured her full attention and she blatantly stared at him. Impeccably dressed in a tailored white shirt, navy blue blazer and khaki pants, he looked like he just stepped off the cover of GQ. Yet he wasn't what she would call drop-dead gorgeous or even handsome, not in the usual sense, and perhaps that was what appealed her. She haven't dated millions of guys before but in those years that she exploited God's creation, she had met a fair number of pretty males. But the stranger near the elevator could never be called pretty. He was too rugged and too earthy for such a label. And very, very, very sinfully sexy.

There was an aura of authority on him as if he were used to getting his way. She stared at the sharp angle of his jaw, the hard line of his mouth. He could be dangerous, she thought, yet she couldn't define what it was about him that made her feel that way.

The stranger had an interesting face and a complexion that was unfashionably tanned. Interesting indeed.

He must've sensed her staring at him because he suddenly turned and looked directly at her. Embarrassed at being caught in the act of gawking at him, she was about to turn away when the elevator door opened with a ding and Spencer, her brother, stepped inside and joined the stranger who was, not to mention, still looking at her and Detective Ahern who immediately straightened.

He was whispering something really swift and low to them and the tall, dirty blond stranger tilted his head toward her. Spencer turned and spotted her. She saw the mix expression of worry, relief and anger in his amber eyes. Taking his steps two at a time, he raced towards her and engulfed her in a bear hug.

"Thank God you're all right. I've been worried sick about you, Massie." He slightly pulled away to glower at her. "Why didn't you call me? Were you waiting to be killed before you would tell us?"

Massie smiled apologetically at her, stroking his face to ease the tension. "Well, I did plan to bring my phone to my grave so that I could call you, Aiden and Adam." She joked.

Spencer growled at her. "This is no joking matter, Massie."

Massie hugged him more tightly and kissed his cheek. "I'm sorry. I was going to call but they kept me in that room"—she gestured with her chin towards the Interview Room—"for almost three hours. _And _they took my phone away. But, the question is, how did you get here? I mean, how did you know? And who's that man talking with Detective Ahern?"

The question took him by surprise. "You haven't met him, have you?"

"Who?" She asked, her frustration mounting.

"Derrick. That's Derrick Harrington." He said.

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**Cliffy? HAHA. **

**Please do leave a review. REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW!**


	5. Chapter 4

**I'm so sorry with the late update. Been busy last week. Anyway, I want all of you to know I'm not abandoning this story. But I do have a new one. It's entitled Ghost of the Past. Go to my profile and check it out. :))**

**Thanks for the reviews. And the patience. Lol.**

**I own nothing.**

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Chapter 4

"Come on, Massie. It's about time you met him."

With a smile, she said, "The infamous Derrick Harrington. You didn't tell me he's so…" She stopped herself in time. She had always felt she could tell her brother just about anything, but it didn't seem appropriate now for her to admit that she thought his best friend was incredibly sexy.

Derrick and Spencer were more like brothers than friends. They met during a fistfight on the park of Boston during the summer before they were entering their freshmen year in college. They bloodied each other's noses and from that day on became each other's shadow. By an odd set of circumstances, Spencer ended living with the Harrington family of six children most of his summer before they went to Harvard together.

"He's so what?" Spencer asked as he pulled her along.

"I'm sorry?"

"Derrick's so what?"

"Tall." She said, finally remembering what they were talking about.

"I never sent you any photos?"

"No, you didn't." she said, casting her brother a frown for the oversight. Suddenly nervous, she took a deep breath and smoothed her dress and walked up to meet him.

Lordy, lordy, he had blue eyes. Brilliant blue eyes that didn't miss a trick, she thought as Spencer made hasty introductions. She put her hand out to shake his but he wouldn't let he be formal. He pushed her hand away, pulled her into his arms and gave him a brotherly embrace. When she stepped back, he continued to hold on to her while he looked her over.

"I'm so happy to meet you. I've heard so many things about you." She said.

"I can't believe we haven't met before now." He replied. "I saw all the pictures of you when you were a kid. Spencer had them up on the wall of our dorm room but that was years ago, and damn, Massie, you sure have changed."

She laughed. "I hope I have."

Detective Ahern, who was standing awkwardly beside Derrick, cleared his throat. "I really think we should get inside my office and discuss things."

"I agree." Spencer immediately said and steered Massie towards the office Detective Ahern led them to.

"What the hell? Stop pushing me around, Spencer. You're acting like Aiden now." Massie demanded.

He ignored her and made her sit on a chair in front of the detective's desk. "Sit." He ordered as if she were a misbehaving dog while he, too, took the seat opposite her.

Detective Ahern's phone rang. "Excuse me. I need to take this. Ahern." He spoke into the receiver as he stepped outside, leaving the three of them inside his small, hot office.

Since there were no other chairs in the room, Derrick was left to lean against the computer table by the window.

"How did you know about what happened tonight?" Massie asked Spencer again.

"A detective from here called me and informed me about the situation here." He said. "At least, someone cared to inform us."

Before Massie could start defending herself again, Derrick interrupted. "Speaking about that, I asked Detective Ahern that detective who called you. There's no NYPD detective with the name or surname Lee."

Spencer was taken aback. And so was Massie. "So, if that's true, then who called me and told me that Massie was here?" Spencer asked though he already knew the answer.

"It was him." Massie answered and turned her head around to look at Derrick. "It was him, wasn't it? He called Spencer and told him?"

Derrick nodded tightly. "He called your brother an hour before he killed."

"He's not trying to be inconspicuous." Massie asked.

Derrick laughed humorlessly. "Inconspicuous is the last thing he is."

***

It was almost 1 in the morning when Detective Ahern allowed them to go home. Massie rode with Spencer in the Limo while Derrick followed them from behind with his black Mercedes towards the St. Regis Hotel since she stubbornly persuaded him to allow her to stay at the hotel where she left her things at.

"Alright, Massie, alright." He had said when she started to whine. "But you're staying there with Derrick. No arguments." He added when she opened her mouth to, well, argue.

She sighed as he dialed Derrick's number and called him. "She's staying at the Regis. Yeah, I know." When he said this, he cast a sideways glance at Massie with a frown. "So, man, can you do me a favor? Could you sleep with her tonight?"

Massie's eyes widened and she could feel her cheeks getting hotter. She punched him on the elbow.

"No, no, that's not what I meant." He was saying this to her and Derrick. "What I meant was could you accompany her tonight? Just in case, this killer goes back to check on her." Pause. "Thank you, Derrick." And he disconnected.

She punched her on the elbow again and pinched his leg.

"Ow! Ow! What the hell?" He cussed. "What were those for?"

"What do you think? That was so embarrassing, Spence!"

"What? Oh, yeah." He finally remembered what she was talking about. "It was an honest mistake, Mass."

Massie scoffed. "An honest mistake? Now I couldn't face him!"

Spencer stared at him suspiciously. "Why are you so bothered?" And, as she thought of a perfect comeback, a slow smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "You're attracted to him, aren't you?"

Massie scoffed again, the sound was too high and too superficial. "Am not."

Spencer nodded sarcastically. "Uh-huh." He teased. "Good luck convincing yourself that."

Massie scowled at him, stuck her tongue out before she turned her head away and glared at the window.

Great. Just great.

***

"So, call me if you need anything." Spencer said when they were already at the lobby of the St. Regis.

Derrick chuckled. "Don't worry, Spence. Maybe you forgot who she's with."

"And maybe that's why I'm worrying." He teased. Ever since that intimate comment he made, his little sister kept blushing madly and throwing a fit every time he made the slightest hint of her attraction towards his best friend.

"If you're both done talking about me, I'm literally dead on my feet." Massie interrupted them sternly.

"Alright." Spencer replied. "Come here." He hugged Massie and gave her brotherly kiss on the cheek. "Sleep well, okay?"

Massie nodded. "Okay. You, too."

Spencer clapped Derrick on the back. "Don't keep her up, okay?" He teased.

"Spencer!" Massie gasped incredulously, her cheeks going crimson.

Derrick laughed. "I'll try." He joked back.

Chortling and clearly enjoying himself, Spencer left.

Massie groaned as they turned their back and got inside the elevator.

"What floor, sir?" The employee in the elevator asked.

Derrick turned to Massie.

"Oh, um, 9th." She answered and the employee pressed the button 9.

Massie groaned. "I can't believe him." She muttered under her breath.

"What did you say?" Derrick asked even though he heard her loud and clear.

"Huh? Oh. Nothing. I said I'm tired." She lied.

"You still have—″ he glanced at his watch "—four hours to sleep."

She sighed just in time the elevator stopped at her floor.

"Have a nice rest." The cordial hotel employee said with a malicious smile.

Massie groaned again especially when she caught Derrick chuckling from the corner of her eye.

Finally, they reached her suite. She unlocked the door and went inside with Derrick following behind her.

It was only when Derrick took off his jacket and turned around to face her that Massie realized she was staring at him while she took her time closing the door.

As soon as the realization dawned into her, she blushed crimson. She closed the door louder than she intended and walked passed him without meeting his eyes. "Please excuse me, Derrick, I just need to take a bath. There are wines and a few more drinks at the mini bar. Please help yourself." It took her all her concentration not to stagger. By the time she was in the bathroom, she slammed the door close behind her but not quick enough to miss Derrick's booming laugh.

***

Derrick stared after Massie. She really was something, he thought. The minute he saw her at the precinct, he couldn't seem to take his eyes off of her. He couldn't believe she was the girl in those pictures Spencer hung on their dorm room. He couldn't also believe his own responses to her. Every time she moved, his eyes followed her. The way she crossed her long legs every now and then, the way she brushed her hair from her face in an unconscious manner, the way her lips moved when she spoke, the way her eyes took a deeper or a softer shade depending on her emotions, the way her hips moved…

What the hell's wrong with him? She was Spencer's kid sister, for God's sake. He ought to know better than lusting for his best friend's little sister even though she wasn't little anymore…

"Stop it, Harrington!" He scolded himself under his breath. "She's off limits. Off limits, damn it!"

He kept muttering to himself as he lounged on the soft sofa and grabbed for the remote. He pretended to watch the shampoo commercial while he tried not to listen to the water running down the tub. The sound brought unholy thoughts back into his mind. He snatched the pillow wedged between his thighs and thrust it on his ear, blocking the sound of the water.

God help Him, fighting lustful thoughts about Massie was harder than tracking a killer.

***

Massie took her time preparing for bed. After she spent almost half an hour pampering herself inside the bathroom, she took a deep breath before walking out. The bathroom was in the bedroom and there was a connecting door to the living room. She hesitated by the connecting door, her hand at the doorknob. She could hear the loud noise from the plasma TV so she guessed he was busy watching the TV and wouldn't notice her peeking. Yes, she would only allow one peek and then she'll go to bed.

Concentrating on not making so noise, she slowly opened the door and peeked at Derrick.

She almost laughed.

Derrick was lounged on the sofa, looking as uncomfortable as ever. He was literally clinging on the edge of the sofa. His huge body was thrice the size of the sofa. Massie found herself wondering if he felt as uncomfortable as he looked.

Without thinking of what she was doing and what she was about to do, she grabbed the quilt from her bed and dragged it towards Derrick. She draped it across his body. Derrick snuggled the quilt closer, Massie had to smile at the sight. She noticed that he didn't take his shoes off and did the task for him. She turned the TV off and went back to the bedroom.

She fell asleep in seconds.

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**Reviews are highly appreciated by moi. :))**


	6. Chapter 5

**I know I promised the update fast but I just went back from a three-day vacation with my family and was forced to leave my laptop home. But I'm keeping my promise now. I'll really update fast if you'll keep those sweet-smelling reviews coming. **

**I own nothing.**

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Chapter 5

Massie felt like hell when she woke up.

Her head was hurting and she felt like the room was spinning. She was about to get up when she felt her back aching. What the hell was wrong with her? She fell back against the bed with a loud, unladylike groan and then shrieked.

Derrick was drinking water in the small kitchen when he heard Massie. Thinking she was in danger, he left the water bottle dripping on the ground, snatched his gun from the table near the sofa and barged inside the bedroom, ready to protect and kill.

Massie shouted when she saw Derrick barge in his arm, gun at the ready. "What in God's name are you doing?" She demanded while he went around the room, opening the bathroom door and checking behind the curtains and under the bed. His back was at her so she couldn't see his expression. "Derrick, I demand you to tell me what you're doing!"

"You demand me to…" He trailed off when he saw her.

Massie was in the middle of the bed, sitting with her elbows propped up behind her, looking aghast. Her thin white nightgown was bunched up around her thighs, revealing her long, flawless legs. There were shadows under her eyes and her hair was ruffled. She was staring at him with those beautiful amber eyes that seemed to sparkle like glitter. Damn, she was so appealing.

She was having almost the same reaction as he was. His eyes were sharp, intense and penetrating. He moved as sleek as a panther. His every move was calculated. His body was big and muscled. The splay of muscle in his shoulders seemed to roll with each movement he made. His hair was tousled and appeared darker to her. His chest was like sculptured by the gods. Every contour was perfect… He was naked!

"You're naked!" Massie gasped out, throwing her hands in front of her eyes. "You're naked!"

She was surprised when Derrick laughed out loud.

"Why are you laughing?"

Derrick forced himself to stop laughing when he heard the blush in Massie's voice. He placed his gun inside the holster on his pants, leaned against the doorframe, folded her arms across his chest and crossed his foot across the other. He settled on a grin instead. "Massie, open your eyes."

Massie shook her head like a five-year-old, her hands still covering her eyes.

Derrick held on to his patience. He sighed. "I've got my pants on, Massie. I'm not naked. I'm _half-naked ._" He corrected her.

"You're still naked." She countered though she already removed her hands from her eyes. Yet she refused to look at him. God, she was stubborn!

"Where are you going?" Derrick asked when she got up, still not glancing his way.

She didn't answer him until she already opened the bathroom door. "Get dressed." She ordered him in her most haughty tone.

Massie swore she heard him guffaw.

***

Derrick held his laughter until they've reached the Hamilton hotel.

Massie had been blushing so much since they've left her room. She refused to speak to him, too. Every time she glanced his way, the blush in her face intensified to the extent that she looked like a tomato.

"I'm sorry." Massie blurted out when they were inside the elevator.

Derrick turned to look at her. "Excuse me?"

Massie took a deep breath, her eyes glued on her toes. "I'm sorry about how I acted this morning. I didn't mean to shout at you. I should've realized the sacrifice you've done to help me. But I can explain my action." She hurried on. "I was having a migraine."

He could see how much she was embarrassed about that. He wanted to take her in his arms but he wasn't sure how she would react to that. He settled on putting his hand on her shoulder. "No harm done."

Massie flinched and hid her blush by looking away. She gave him a nod.

They waited for the elevator to reach the twelfth floor and when the doors did open, Massie raced outside.

Derrick chuckled at her urgency.

He followed her towards the room at the end of the hallway. Massie knocked twice.

"Come in." She heard Spencer say.

Derrick opened the door for her. He deliberately brushed his arm against her just to provoke her. Massie reacted as if she were electrocuted.

He enjoyed watching her cheeks go red and he made a gentlemanly gesture for her to go in first. Her blush reddened deeper.

"You look flushed." Spencer noted when he saw Massie though judging by the smug grin plastered on Derrick's face, he already knew why.

Massie ignored him when she saw Adam, lounged on the sofa, waiting for her to acknowledge him.

Massie squealed in delight and literally ran towards him and threw her arms around him. Thankfully, Adam caught her before she would trip.

He laughed. "Slow down, kiddo. Missed me?"

She squealed again and kissed him on the cheek. "I thought you were busy with your game next week."

"My little sister's safety is more important than my games." He said.

Massie gave him a playful shove. "Yeah, right."

"Massie."

She straightened when she heard Aiden's voice.

Adam kissed her on the forehead and peeled her hands off his neck.

Massie forced a smile and looked up at Aiden. "Aiden. I missed you." She said enthusiastically and then hugged her brother.

"Do you know what you've put us through?" He demanded but his offensive tone softened when he hugged her back. "Could you imagine the shock I've received when Spencer called me and told me you're in danger? I thought you were dead." He couldn't picture her in that situation.

Massie placed her hand on Aiden's cheek. "But thankfully I'm not, right?" She tried to placate him.

But he wasn't one to be placated so easily. "We're gonna talk about this. And I mean, now. Start from the beginning."

Massie sighed, knowing that he wouldn't be put off, and went over to sit on the nearest chair before she started telling them everything that happened.

Twenty minutes later, she finished with constant interruptions from her brothers. Aiden, mostly.

"Why did he pick you? Of all people, why you?" Aiden asked as he paced back in forth. Adam was beside Massie, Spencer occupied the seat across them and Derrick was leaning against the wall.

Derrick was the one who answered that. "So far, we don't know. The reason depends on what he is. We're considering serial killer. But since his specific that Massie's his intended victim, he may be a fan or a killer with vengeance."

Silence occupied the room for the next few minutes.

"So, what do we do now?" Adam asked.

"She's not going back to Westchester. She's flying to London this afternoon." Aiden answered, walking casually towards the big window.

Massie stood up and gaped at him. "You're joking!"

Aiden shook his head without turning to her. "I assure you that I'm not."

"But…but…but…" Massie thought of the perfect and persuasive excuse to give him. "What about my clothes?"

Aiden couldn't help but turn around. Massie had everyone's attention, too. Even Derrick's.

"There are tons of stores and boutiques in London, Massie. Surely you could find better clothes than the ones you have back at Westchester." Aiden said.

"But I want _my _clothes. And most of them are limited designer designs." She added with a nod.

Aiden couldn't believe they were having this conversation. He saw Adam snickering and Spencer and Derrick sharing an amused look from the corner of his eye. "I'll buy you a trailer full of designer clothes." When Massie was about to argue again, he added with an irritated tone, "I'll buy you the designer as well if that gets your butt to London."

"But—″

Aiden held up his hand to stop her. "End of discussion."

Massie wanted to throttle him but controlled her temper. "Okay. But what about Claire's wedding? I'm her best friend and her bridesmaid. The wedding won't be a wedding without me." She thought her reason was reasonable enough.

Aiden and the others thought her reason was ridiculous. "Massie, you're the _bridesmaid_. Not the bride. For God's sake, grow up." Aiden threw his hands up in frustration.

She placed her hands on her hips, braced her feet apart, and gave him a good Mom look. "I made a commitment to Claire Lyons to be her bridesmaid on her most important, once-in-a-lifetime day in her life. I'm not gonna break it. And as far as I recall, you three—″ She paused dramatically to glare at each of her brothers "—were the ones who told me to honor my commitment. Don't you think what you're telling me now is a contradiction to what you taught me before?"

Derrick stared at her, impressed. He could see that her brothers were blushing, embarrassed. He wanted to laugh.

Adam, the natural tease in the family, said, "How certain are you that this will be her first and last marriage? What if they get a divorce and she remarries?"

"Then, I'll be her bridesmaid again and have the time of my life picking out a kick-ass dress." She snapped then rolled her eyes heavenward. With a serious tone they couldn't argue with, she continued. "I'm not letting this deranged, twisted person break the promise I made to my friend and curtail me from doing my duties and responsibilities. If you make me move to Paris because you think I'm scared of him, I'd be royally pissed with the three of you and I would never ever speak to you again from the moment I board the plan until I'm in my deathbed. I won't even be calling any of you even if I'd get married."

Appalled, they gaped at her. Except for Aiden. He was glaring icily at her. But Massie didn't care. She matched his glare with a glare of her own.

Aiden let out a furious sigh. "Then what do you suggest?"

Massie smiled. "Ooh, I have a plan."

"What?" Adam prompted when she paused.

"Two can play in a game, right?" Massie wiggled her eyebrows.

Derrick understood right away. "No. Absolutely not."

The three brothers looked from their sister to him.

"What 'No. Absolutely not'? What, you're both speaking sign language now?" Adam demanded.

Derrick didn't tear his gaze away from Massie. "She'll use herself as bait to catch the suspect."

What happened next was too incoherent and messed up for Massie to wrap her around to. Everyone started shouting at the same time. Adam was screaming at Derrick to put some sense into Massie's mind. Spencer was yelling at Massie. Aiden was erupting into a fit of rage.

"Are you out of your mind? Are you that desperate to die?" Aiden demanded, grabbing Massie by the shoulders and shaking her. "Goddamn it, Massie, someone's trying to kill you! He already killed six women. Are you waiting to be the seventh? A normal person would take this seriously and run away as far as she could!"

"You're hurting me, Aiden." Massie whispered to him. She waited for him to calm down and unhand her before she spoke again. "That's what I'm trying to say, Aiden. Will you two shut up?" She yelled at Spencer and Adam who were now attacking Derrick with loud questions. Derrick was simply staring at her. She ignored him. "Thank you." She said when they finally kept quiet. "I know that someone's trying to kill me, Aiden, and I know he's killed six women already. That's my point. He won't stop until he gets what he want which obviously is me. And you're right." She admitted. "A normal person would hide. But how could I hide when he's put there killing innocent women who have families to get to me?" She turned her back at them. "Thinking about their families makes me want to throw up. These women are dead because of me. Don't you think I know that and I feel guilty about it, too?"

"Mass, it's not your—″ Spencer began to say.

Massie cut her off by facing them and holding up her hand. "No, Spencer, it _is_ my fault. And that's what had me determined to catch him. Not for me. But for the women and their families."

They stared at her in silence. Massie waited patiently for them to digest what she just said.

Her impatience grew as the silence stretched. When she couldn't take it anymore, she walked around the corner wall towards the mini bar, ducked under the counter and retrieved a bottle of water from the mini fridge. She took her time, satisfying her thirst before she propped her elbows on the table and folded her hands under her chin. She looked directly at her audience. "Nothing you'll say would change my mind."

Aiden groaned and strode towards the bedroom, slamming the door before him.

Massie ignored his loud expletive and continued to stare at Adam, Spencer and Derrick with a sweet smile.

She knew they knew she had just won the argument.

* * *

**Leave a review, please. It would really make me happy and would speed up my updates. :))**


	7. Chapter 6

**I really enjoyed writing this chapter. I hope you'll enjoy reading it, too. **

**About the late update, my laptop was broken and I had to have it checked. And it seems like this deadly virus corrupted my laptop and erased all my data therefore I had to rewrite this again. The original one was longer. Yeah, this one's actually the shorter version.**

**Anyway, I'm putting Ghost of the Past on hold. I've decided to concentrate on this one since Sweet Revenge has more responses and I don't want to disappoint you all. I'm determined and actually quite excited on finishing this. **

**Your reviews are the ones that encourage me to continue this story. Especially xoxoDDLSG, she's like the longest and the most constant reviewer. Please check her stories out, Beyond Enemy Lies and Hope This Doesn't Hurt. Another great author is smilez014. Go and check out her stories, too. And to all others as well. Reviews are like ice cream to me; I savor them. :))**

**I own nothing.**

Chapter 6

"Your sister's twisted." Derrick remarked.

He was leaning against the mini bar, a whiskey on one hand. Spencer was behind the counter, fixing himself a drink while Adam was on the phone, talking to his manager. Massie was occupying the sofa and her head was bent down on an old, dusty book.

"That's probably an understatement." Spencer replied, emptying a glass of Martini in one gulp.

"I can hear you." Massie said without tearing her gaze from the book she was reading.

"We know." Derrick said with a grin.

"But we also know you know already." Spencer added.

"Idiots." Massie muttered under her breath.

Derrick and Spencer heard her and laughed raucously.

"I'm gonna pretend both of you are not here." Massie told them.

"Pretend all you want but we're not going anywhere until you decide not to pursue this absurd plan of yours." Spencer said.

Massie ignored them and continued to pretend they weren't there for the next following minutes until Derrick's phone rang.

He checked who the caller. "It's Noah." He told Spencer and went out the balcony to answer the call privately.

"Who's Noah?" Massie asked Spencer when he sat beside her. She had to scoot over the corner so that Spencer could stretch his legs.

"God, I'm tired." He muttered then remembering she asked him a question, he turned to her and made her repeat what she asked.

"Oh. Noah Clayborne is Derrick's partner." He explained and closed his eyes.

Massie waited for him to elaborate but after two minutes have passed, she realized she wasn't getting any more than that. She turned her attention to Derrick who was pacing back and forth in the balcony and she seemed contented just watching him.

Dear Lord, he really was a sight. She studied how his muscle tightened in every movement, how his forehead would crease every now and then, and how his lips moved while he spoke. She suddenly found herself wondering how the man kissed. He was probably a great kisser.

"What are you staring at?"

Massie literally jumped when Spencer asked the question. She thought he dozed off but it seemed like he was watching her. Oh, God. Did he see her watching his best friend?

"Er, the painting." She stammered her explanation. "The painting caught my attention." She pointed at the painting above the piano just beside the balcony doors.

Spencer stared at her blush for a few seconds. "Uh-huh. Could've fooled me." He murmured with a rascal's grin while he stacked his hands behind his head and closed his eyes once again.

Massie slapped his brother on his shoulder. "Shut up." And when he started laughing, she stabbed her heel on his foot.

Her puny attempt of putting a halt in his laughter made him laugh even louder until his stomach was hurting.

"What the hell's wrong with him?" Derrick's voice came behind Massie and she could feel he was standing so close behind her that if she would turn, she would come plastered against his chest. That thought made her cheeks grow hotter.

"She's got a crush on —″ Spencer started to explain but was cut off when Massie clapped her hand on her mouth.

She stared, mortified, at Spencer and when she tightened her hold on him, he guffawed.

"Now I know where you got that twisted mind." Derrick commented, shaking his head, as he sat beside Massie. He was so close that his thigh brushed against hers.

Massie stiffened from his closeness. She pinched Spencer one more time before she ran to the bathroom, her head bent down so to cover her flaming cheeks. When she reached the bathroom, she slammed the door before her and let out a horrified scream.

Aiden came out from the bedroom and Adam hung up his phone after hearing Massie's cry.

"Now, what? What are you laughing about?" Aiden added in a near shout when he saw Spencer choking in laughter.

"Yeah, are you demented? What did you do to her?" Adam added when he heard Massie sob.

Derrick started patting Spencer's back to get him to stop laughing. When he did calm down, he explained. "It just dawned on me that our little sister is no longer little."

If they thought Spencer's explanation was peculiar, they didn't say it. But they did glare at him.

Before turning back to the bedroom, Aiden told Spencer in a harsh voice, "Fix this."

"Alright, alright." Spencer said, his hands up in surrender, as Adam continued to glare at him. Spencer knocked on the bathroom and twisted the doorknob though he already knew it was locked.

"Mass?" he called out.

"I'll kill you if you'll ever talk to me again." Massie shouted back at him. "And I mean it, Spencer."

He sighed and went back to Derrick and Adam. "I'll give her time to calm down."

"What did you do that pricked her temper?" Adam asked, curious, since her sister was the kind who rarely show her distress and lose her temper in front of an audience.

Spencer shrugged. "It'll only make her want to kill me even more." He was trying his best not to laugh and was particularly proud of himself.

Derrick and Adam shared a glance and then shook their head.

"Anyway, what did Noah say?" Spencer deliberately changed the subject.

"I called him last night and told him what happened but didn't give him the full detail…yet. His flight's just boarding." Derrick told them.

"So, the notorious Noah's coming." Adam said, smiling. "Wonder what Massie would think about him. Wonder if she'd find him attractive."

Spencer wasn't listening to Adam. He was watching Derrick. His best friend had his hands balled into fist and his jaw was clenched tight when Adam made that comment. He looked like he was going to throttle Adam and was having a hard time keeping his emotions under control. Spencer wasn't an idiot and he knew his best friend was also attracted to his little sister.

That thought made Spencer grin.

"You're grinning like an idiot. What's gotten into you, Spence?" Adam interrupted what Derrick was saying when his eyes fell on his brother. "Are you high?" He asked the most logical explanation to Spencer's outrageous behavior.

Spencer didn't answer him until he made his way towards the bar and poured himself another glass of Martini. "You'll find out soon. In fact, we'll all find out soon."

***

Massie finally came out after an hour. She scanned the room and found that Derrick wasn't there. She was both relieved and saddened by his disappearance.

Ignoring such ridiculous emotions, she went to sit stand by the window near the book shelf. Since her brothers were busy watching the news and Aiden and Spencer were engrossed in their heated discussion about the new Hamilton hotel in Mexico, they didn't notice her and were completely oblivious when she walked pass them. She didn't know how long she stood there and stared at the window with her arms folded across her chest until she heard Adam's comment about Derrick and Noah taking so long.

"Noah's coming here? Oh. Sorry." She added when her brothers jumped, startled, at the sound of her voice.

"Hell!" Aiden cursed, massaging his knee which bumped against the center table when he jumped. "How long have you been standing there?"

Massie shrugged. "I don't know. A couple of minutes maybe."

"Jesus! You're going to give us a heart attack." He said.

Massie ignored their complaints and insults while she walked over to stand behind the sofa Adam was occupying. "Noah's coming here?" She repeated.

"Yes." Spencer answered.

"How is it that you all know him?" Massie asked, curious.

"Poker night." Adam answered. "That reminds me." He said before he turned to Aiden. "You still owe me a hundred bucks." He reminded him with a grin.

Aiden rolled his eyes. "Like you'll make me forget." He muttered as he retrieved his wallet and all but shoved a hundred dollar bill on Adam's palm.

"Why is he coming here?" Massie asked.

No one had the chance to answer her question because the door opened and Derrick walked inside with Noah following behind him.

Derrick's partner certainly made a strong first impression. Massie suspected that if he were involved in a brawl, he'd come out the winner and relish the good time he'd had slamming heads together.

He was dressed in faded jeans and a light gray T-shirt, and his sandy blond hair was in desperate need of a trim. There didn't seem to be an extra ounce of fat anywhere and the muscles in his upper arms strained the bands of his shirtsleeves. A scar below his eyebrow and a devilish smile gave him a rakish appearance, and she knew before he'd spoken a word that he was a flirt and a ladies' man. He'd already given her the once-over as he crossed the room to shake her brothers' hands, and his gaze, she'd noticed, had lingered on her legs a bit longer than was necessary.

"I really appreciate you taking the time from your busy schedule to come here." Aiden said.

"Yeah, well, to be honest, I wasn't given a choice. Derrick asked." Noah answered.

"He owes me." Derrick said.

"True," Noah agreed, his gaze still on Massie. "And he never lets me forget."

When Aiden introduced him to his sister, he took hold of her hand and didn't let go. "You're a hell of a lot prettier than your brothers." He drawled. Glancing at Derrick, he added, "Say, I've got a great idea."

"Forget about it." Derrick replied.

Acting as though he hadn't heard him, he suggested. "Why don't I take her and you can take the others."

"She's off limits, Noah." Derrick warned.

"How come?" he asked, his eyes locked on Massie's. "You married?"

"No." She answered, smiling over his outrageous behavior.

"Then I don't see the problem. I want her, Derrick."

"Too bad." Derrick snapped.

Noah's smile widened. He had obviously just gotten the reaction he wanted because he winked at Massie, as though she were a partner in his game to goad Derrick. He finally let go of her hand and turned to Aiden. "You've got any food here, man? I'm starving."

"Would you like me to fix you something?" Massie offered, just to be polite.

When Noah looked at her again, the smile was firmly back in place. "Yeah, I'd like that a lot."

Derrick didn't like it at all. Shaking his head, he said, "You can fix yourself something to eat. Now that you're here, let's all go over the plan so that when Pete's plane arrives in the afternoon, we already have a final plan."

"Plan? What plan? I don't know anything about a plan." She turned to glare at Derrick.

He smiled at her.

"Well, actually, while you were screeching and shrieking inside the bathroom, your brothers and I have agreed on a plan." Derrick explained.

Massie understood at once. "You can't make me change my mind. I'm not leaving the country and I'm definitely not hiding from him." She emphasized her statement with a firm nod.

Derrick ignored her. "We're going to find someone who looks like you, make her pretend that she's you, use her as bait and ─ bam ─ we get him."

Everyone except Noah and Massie nodded in agreement. Noah looked doubtful while Massie looked outraged.

"You're all fools if you think I would allow someone to risk her life for me." Massie said, her eyes stinging with angry tears. "And do you think _he _would fall for that? He'll eventually find out that she isn't me."

Noah nodded. "She's right."

Derrick looked astonished that Noah was backing her up. "Agreeing with her won't make her go to bed with you, Noah."

Noah started laughing. "I'm far too cunning than that, my friend."

"What did you say?" Aiden looked at Derrick then glared at Noah. "You want my sister in your bed?" He roared.

Noah gave him an innocent look. Shrugging, he said, "What? She's hot."

It was all chaos after that. Aiden was going to throttle Noah's neck and Spencer and Adam was holding him back while Massie stood between Aiden and Noah who was in the middle of guffaws. Derrick was planning to get a few punches on Noah when his phone rang.

"Harrington." He had to shout over the noise Aiden was making.

It was Detective Ahern.

After the detective explained and told him what happened, Derrick was shaking with fury. "Son of a bitch!" He roared.

As soon as he let out the obscene curse, everyone went completely silent, waiting for him to explain. He cussed and roared a few more times before he finally disconnected the call. He stared at his phone, waiting for the thing Detective Ahern was about to send, then cussed again when it finally arrived.

"The asshole's done it again." He explained in a voice that shook with anger.

He handed his phone to Noah and was passed around the brothers as well. Their responses were as powerful as his was.

"Oh, my God." Massie covered her mouth with her hand when she finally got her turn to look at the message that made everyone angry.

She wished she didn't.

It was a slideshow of images of her taking her clothes off and going in the tub followed by a series of images of her choosing her nightgown, putting it on and leaving the bathroom. The last picture was all captions ─ flashy captions that looked like Vegas lights. It said, "You will be mine".

She only had time to look at Derrick's face before darkness enveloped her.

***

Massie woke up a few minutes after, finding everyone leaning over her.

She was on the sofa, a few pillows propped behind her head. When she started to sit up, five pairs of hands forced her to lie back.

"I'm feeling fine now." She tried to convince them.

"Could've fooled us." Adam said.

Massie sigh, defeated.

Silence fell between them. Massie knew they were trying not to open up the topic about the video. But she had to open it up.

"He took it last night." She said in a voice that was barely a whisper but she knew they heard them quite right.

No one answered her.

"He was there last night, wasn't he?" Massie prodded. "He was the one occupying the room at the other side of the bathroom. He took the pictures from a hole he made, didn't he?"

No answer.

"I'll talk and talk and talk all day long if you keep on staring at me like that and ignoring me. I'll shout at the top of my lungs just to get you all to answer me." She was angry that they were staring at her like she was a lost cause. She didn't want their pity. God, that was the last thing she wanted.

"Look, Massie, we know you're scared…" Spencer started to say but Massie's humorless laughter cut him off.

Everyone looked at her as if she were crazy.

"Oh, no, I'm not scared." Massie said. "That's the last thing I am now. Disgusted is most definitely the right word. I'm so damned disgusted that I want to kill him."

They were surprised at the vehemence in her voice.

Spencer wrapped his arm around her while he and Noah forced her to sit. She was then squeezed between her brother and Noah.

"How did he get those…those pictures to Detective Ahern?" Massie asked Derrick.

Derrick sat across her with his legs stretched out. "He 'delivered' them." When everyone stared at him curiously, he explained. "It was hectic at the station this morning. There was the fourteen-year-old rape case that just came in, then the Steiner's homicide, the Montgomery kidnapping. Everyone was in and out the precinct. He took his precious time and went there then left the CD on top of Detective Ahern's desk."

"The son of bitch strolled inside the station and _delivered _the CD?" Noah sounded incredulous.

Derrick nodded.

"Wasn't he concerned someone might catch him?" Spencer asked. "Did he think he could simply stroll inside a place full of cops then could get out without being seen?"

Derrick shook his head. "No, he's not worried that someone might catch him. He thinks of himself superior and smarter than the police. And, yes. He did think he could simply stroll inside a place full of cops and get out without being seen. In fact, no one did see him."

"He's challenging us." Massie said. "He's proving himself fearless. Derrick's right. He thinks of himself smarter than the police. He believes he could send the cops in a merry chase without getting caught."

"He moves with deliberation." Aiden commented.

"And the only way we could fight him back is to outsmart him." Massie said, shooting each man a meaningful look which meant I-told-you-so.

The following hours were spent pondering Massie's statement and an hour before Pete Morganstern's flight arrived, they knew what was going to happen.

Hell, they had to use Massie as bait.

That realization blackened everybody's mood.

***

Massie was nervous and apprehensive about meeting the doctor and she hoped that didn't show when Derrick pulled her forward to meet his employer.

Dr. Pete Morganstern shook her hand, insisted that she called him Pete, and then said, "Why don't we go sit down and figure out what we're going to do."

Instinctively she looked at Derrick and he gave her a quick nod. Massie went over to sit on the couch while Derrick and Noah stayed behind to speak to Pete. They were speaking in whispers so Massie couldn't hear them. She watched in suspicion as Pete called her brothers and Aiden, Spencer and Adam went to join their discussion. Massie's impatience turned to irritation when they started to glance back at her then talk again. After what seemed like hours, the discussion finally ended.

Massie stood up as Pete walked towards her. He motioned for her to sit down but Massie shook her head. "Sir, if you won't mind, I would like to speak to you in private." She requested.

She saw Derrick raise an eyebrow at her and she threw him a glare that she hoped was as chilly as his was.

"Well, of course, dear." He agreed.

"We could move to the Spencer's study so we could have privacy." She said the last word with a meaningful glance towards Derrick.

"That would be nice." Pete said.

They were about to walk to the study when Derrick cleared his throat and interrupted by putting his hand on Pete's shoulder. "Pete, I would like to speak to you for a minute. Massie, wait for Pete in the study." He ordered her with a glare that told her not to argue.

Massie glared back at him before giving in. She waited for Pete in the study, sitting on the couch near the billiard table.

When the door finally opened and Pete walked inside, she smiled. But when she saw that Derrick was following him, she scowled at him.

Derrick closed the door behind him, leaned against the door and folded his arms across his chest. He winked at her and his body language told her that he wasn't planning on leaving anytime soon.

"Did you wish to speak to Pete?" She asked him with a sweet smile.

"No." Derrick replied bluntly.

She glowered.

He smiled.

Pete was enjoying watching the two. He could see the sparks flying between them. Oh, dear. He knew what was to do. Yes, he did.

"Derrick asked to join us." Pete said. "I told him it was up to you."

Massie glanced at Derrick and after a few seconds of considering the idea, she finally agreed. "Alright. But, Derrick, if you interrupt or disagree with me, I'll personally toss you outside." She threatened.

Derrick raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really? And how do you think you'll manage to do that?" He challenged with a devil-may-care grin.

Massie thought about it as she looked at him. How? For God's sake, he was a big and tall man. The mere idea of her carrying him made her want to laugh. "I'll have my brothers toss you out."

"So, your brothers said you were feeling guilty. Why?" Pete had to shout that question so that he could be heard over Derrick's laughter.

"What?" She was too preoccupied staring at Derrick that she didn't hear him. Pete had to repeat his question. "Oh, that. I was feeling guilty because I'm the reason why innocent women are murdered. I was thinking about their family, Pete. I really do feel responsible."

Pete patted her hand which was folded on her lap. "It's not your fault, dear. You don't have to feel responsible of their deaths."

"But I am, Pete." She cried. "And I know he won't stop until he gets me. I'm sure that man already enlightened you with my plan."

"That man?" Pete grinned mischievously as he glanced at Derrick.

Massie nodded.

"Massie, you have no plan." Derrick said.

"I sure as hell have." Massie argued. When she realized what she just said, she turned to Pete to apologize. "Do forgive me, Pete, for behaving so unladylike. But I have a reasonable explanation."

"You do?" Pete asked, amused.

Massie nodded. "It's because of him. If he isn't so stubborn and if he would only admit that I'm right, I wouldn't be acting so disgraceful."

Pete hid his smile because Derrick looked like he wanted to throttle Massie. "Well, then, if that's the case, you ought to apologize to the dear lady, Derrick."

Derrick stared at him incredulously. "You're taking her side?"

Massie beamed at Pete. "I agree with you, Pete. And, Derrick, stop shouting at Pete."

The woman was exasperating and impossible, Derrick thought as he watched Massie stick her tongue out at him. What was more exasperating was that Pete was actually enjoying his discomfort.

"So, you agree that we should use her as bait?" Derrick asked Pete.

Pete leaned back against the couch and had a brooding look on his face. "I must admit that using her as bait would probably draw out the killer but I must also admit that I'm not in full agreement with it. I'm only thinking of your safety, child." He explained when Massie looked incredulous. "And the rest are also, too, I'm sure."

Massie started to shake her head. She thought she already had the doctor in her hands. She needed to gain his approval first since he was Derrick's superior. And she knew that if Pete would agree, Derrick and the rest will have to concede as well. Turning to Pete, she said, "I'm sorry to ask you this, Pete, but do we all want to catch this guy?"

Pete nodded. "Of course, we do but ─"

"Then do you admit that using me as bait is probably the only and likeliest way to catch him?"

"Yes but ─"

"Then if you want to catch him and put an end to the killing, we should use the only and likeliest way, right?"

"Yes but ─"

"There." Massie leaned back against the couch and stared at him with a satisfied look. "Approval gained. Problem solved."

Pete glanced at Derrick, asking for help.

Derrick was already half his way to Massie. He stood at the end of the sofa and glared down at her. "Approval ungained. Problem unsolved."

Massie sighed, frustrated, then glanced up at Derrick. "Must you be so difficult?"

"No, Massie. You're the one being difficult here. Don't you understand the danger accompanying this noble act of yours?" Derrick demanded. "You're walking right into the shark's mouth."

"But you won't let me die." Massie declared. "I know you'll protect me." Her voice softened.

Derrick was taken aback by what she said. She completely trusted him, he realized.

"That's right!" Pete laughed, breaking the tension and the awkward silence between Massie and Derrick.

The two of them turned with perplexed expressions to the elderly doctor who was slapping his knee while laughing.

"What?" Derrick demanded.

"We're going to make him crazy." Pete said.

Derrick rolled his eyes heavenward. "For the love of God, Pete, he's already crazy." He told him.

Massie was looking at Pete and was nodding. "Yes. Pete's right. Let's make him crazy."

Derrick glanced from her to his superior. "I think you're both crazy."

They ignored him.

"What would do it? What would probably bring him to the edge? How can we make him so angry that he'll be careless?" Massie pondered while she stood up and paced back and forth.

"Having listened to what Derrick said to me, seeing the pictures he sent, I can tell you that this unsub has quite an ego and he wants the world to believe he's intelligent. He wants you rattled and afraid. I say you be the opposite. Don't show the least fear. Your obliviousness would challenge him. He would think of it as a mockery. Mock him and you incite him." Pete smiled. Before Derrick could argue with him, he continued. "Go back to Westchester and go on with your life as if nothing happened. Send him into a merry chase."

Massie was smiling because she realized that she had won the argument. But her smile vanished as soon as it appeared when Derrick spoke.

"I'm going with her." He said.

Massie was more appalled when Pete nodded.

"Yes, you're going with her." Pete agreed. "Now, Massie, we're not taking chances. We still have to think of your safety."

"But if we're going to be inconspicuous, having Derrick there will only give us away." Massie said.

"Derrick will be there because your brothers asked him to and since Derrick's on a vacation from work, he accepted." Pete said. "And if you haven't realized yet, he wants the FBI to be involved. From what Derrick told me about the mysterious Detective Lee who called him, we've deducted that it was him. Therefore, the only point of calling an FBI agent is to involve the whole bureau."

"Okay. But why does it have to be him? Why can't it be Noah or someone else?" Massie asked.

Pete didn't dare smile because Derrick was watching him intently. "He's the only one who's available." He smiled secretly because he just gave away his one reason in a very masked way. Before they could question him further, he asked, "What's wrong with Derrick?"

Massie frowned. "Well, I could give you the long list but I'll give you the short one. He's stubborn and not easily swayed and far too distracting." She blurted out and immediately blushed.

Pete laughed and Derrick eventually joined in.

"And why do you consider I'm a distraction?" Derrick deliberately placed one hand on the armrest and the other on the back of Massie, leaned forward with a smile.

He heard her indrawn breath and Massie could see he found amusement in her discomfort. She hastily stood up and bumped her shoulder roughly against Derrick's chin. She didn't apologize. She walked towards the door and answered his question before she left. "You're an ugly distraction." She lied.

She closed the door at Derrick and Pete's booming laughter.

She swore on her life that she would never live with him.

***

They were just finished telling everyone the plan when Massie's phone rang. She looked at the receiver first then at Derrick. "Private number." She whispered.

"Remember, three rings, Massie. Three rings." Pete told her before he moved to sit beside Noah who was bent down on a laptop.

Massie nodded at Pete then picked up the phone. "Hello?"

She heard the giggling and a little boy's voice asked, "Is your refrigerator running?"

She knew the joke and decided to go along. "Why, yes it is."

Another spurt of laughter followed and then another boy's voice asked, "Then you'd better go an catch it."

Laughter rang through the phone as Massie hung up. Derrick was watching her from the window.

"Kids playing phone games." She explained.

The phone rang again and as she waited for the third to end, she said to Derrick, "I guess I shouldn't have encouraged him. I'll be firmer this time."

"Hello?"

"Massie."

"Yes?"

The voice on the other end of the line began to sing a bastardized version of "Buffalo Gal" with a few alterations.

"Amber-eyed girl, would you come out and play, come out and play, come out and play. Amber-eyed girl would you come out and play, come out and play… Like my singing, Massie?"

"Who is this?" As she asked, she whirled around and looked at Derrick.

"I'm your secret admirer. Your destiny." The voice taunted. "I'm afraid that I have to come and get you. Are you scared?"

"No, I'm not." She lied.

She cringed when she heard his laughter. It stopped as nearly as it began and he whispered, "Do you want to hear another song?"

She didn't answer. Derrick was rushing towards her and out of the corner of her eyes, she saw everyone watching her closely yet she was frozen by the voice on the phone. She was gripping the receiver so tightly in her hand that Derrick had to use considerable force to pull it away and listen with her.

It only dawned in her that Pete and Noah was trying to locate the guy. That's why Pete told her to let it ring thrice. She ought to talk to the guy in order for Noah and Pete to track him.

"Is the song as stupid as the one you just sang?" Massie asked.

"Oh, no, this one's sure to please. It's pure and… original. Listen close now."

She heard a click and a woman's bloodcurling screams. It was the most horrific sound she had ever heard and if Derrick hadn't held her, she would have fallen down the floor as the tortured screams pierced her ear. Then Massie heard another click and the screaming stopped.

"Aren't you going to tell me to leave her alone? I have, you know. I left her in grave. I'll probably come back and dig her up again. I do that sometimes, you see. I like to look at what they've become. This one's just a poor substitute of you, love. Are you ready to play yet?"

Bile was rising to her throat. She could taste it.

"Play what?" Massie asked, trying her best to sound bored with him and the conversation.

"Why, hide-and-seek, of course. You hide and I seek. That's how the game is played."

"I'm not playing any games with you."

"Yes, yes, you are."

"No." She countered, her voice hard. "I'm going home."

He shrieked, she couldn't tell whether she angered him or made him happy. Jerking the phone away from Derrick's hand, she straightened up and shouted, "Come and get me."

**Whew. My fingers are aching from all the typing. Anyway, was it worth it? Let me know in your reviews.**

**Noah's a handsome devil and terrible flirt. Ooh, I love him. :)**

**I enjoy Massington moments. They're so funny together. Haha. **

**Oh, and just to give y'all a heads-up, Sweet Revenge is a really, really long story. Probably 30 chaps, I'm still not sure. I've only finished writing the 7****th****, 8****th**** and 9****th**** chapter but I'm constantly changing some parts ─ you could say I'm still polishing. Just to let you know. **

**Don't forget to review, okay? If I get ****at least**** ten reviews, I'll update soon and I'll even give a bonus chapter. So, yeah, REVIEW!**


	8. Chapter 7

**Take note: Westchester is a small town in Pennsylvania. One has to take a plane from New York to Pennsylvania and drive to Westchester. So, yeah, just take note. **

**Yay! I updated. Your reviews inspired me to update fast. Haha. As promised, I'm also posting a bonus chapter 'cause you, people, make me happy. Keep making me happy and I'll update every day. :D **

**Oh, and, because of her undying support and inspiring reviews, I've decided to dedicate Sweet Revenge to a very wonderful, very amazing writer, xoxoDDLSG. I swear, guys, you would be happy and lucky if she reviews your stories. All of her reviews are so long and they sometimes make you laugh because of her cheerfulness. Haha. Okay, so, this story is dedicated to you, xoxoDDLSG. :)**

**I own nothing.**

Chapter 7

The game was on.

A team of FBI agents swarmed into Westchester to prepare the trap. Julius Wesson, their section leader, set up his command post in a spacious, well-appointed cabin near the abbey while other FBI agents surveyed the town as subtle as they could.

Joe Farley and Matt Feinberg, one a field agent from Omaha, Nebraska and the other an electronic surveillance specialist, were sent into town ahead of the others to scout Massie's neighborhood and secure the premises. Both had been ordered to treat the property as if it were a crime scene.

They knew they were going to have a problem blending in. In a small town like Westchester, everyone knew everyone and the two didn't want to stand out like pair of red shoes in a funeral procession. They had been told that there were other strangers working in the abbey and so both agents were dressed in work clothes. Farley wore a basketball cap and carried a black duffel bag while Feinsberg carried a toolbox.

No one paid them the slightest attention.

The news about some strangers hovering outside and inside Massie Block's house reached the town sheriff, good old Sheriff Lloyd McGovern, and the sheriff decided to see for himself. Bringing his shotgun with him, of course.

Sheriff Lloyd arrived just as Feinberg was circling the perimeter of Massie's two-storey house for possible hiding places while Farley checked the kitchen. The sheriff burst through the front door, gun at the ready. "You put your hands up, boy, or I'll shoot your brains off." He ordered.

Feinberg just came in through the front door without making noise. He poked the sheriff on the shoulder to get his attention. The sheriff, thinking Feinberg had a gun, dropped his shotgun and put his hands up in the air. "You take anything but leave me the hell alone." The sheriff said.

Feinberg rolled his eyes in exasperation and shook his head at Sheriff Lloyd. "We're not robbers." He said.

"Then, what the hell are you doing in Massie's house? Are you relatives of hers?" Sheriff Lloyd asked.

Feinberg shook his head again but it was Farley who responded. "No. We're her brothers' friends. They asked us to check and fix her sink."

"It's clogged." Feinberg added without a smile.

Lloyd bought it. "Alright, then. Are you boys planning on staying for the night?"

"Maybe." Farley answered. "Depends on how much work the plumbing needs."

"Where is Massie?"

"She'll be here soon."

"And you boys think you stay here in this house with her and you're not related? You shouldn't be staying here." He added with a nod.

"Why? Are you worried about Massie's reputation?" Farley asked.

"No. Everyone knows she's a good kid. No. It's him I'm worried about." Lloyd said almost absentmindedly.

"Him?" Feinberg and Farley shared a look.

Lloyd nodded. "I'm warning you boys. You should find other accommodations because when he hears that you're staying here with his Massie, he'll probably kill you."

"Who are you talking about?" Farley asked.

"Yeah. Who won't like it?" Feinberg added.

Lloyd looked from the other to the other. "Never you mind. Anyway, I just thought you ought to know. No one in Westchester wants him angry. He can get real mean if you know what I mean. And when my friend gets angry, not even the law here could outstand him."

"So, that means we're on our own?" Farley asked.

Lloyd nodded.

"Well, you ought to tell your friend then that none of us are romantically involved with Massie." Feinberg said.

"That's good to know. See, my friend will get married to her real soon."

"He's talking about marriage, huh?"

"It ain't just talk. He's been planning it for a long time now. He hadn't told her yet but he's sure she'll say yes to his proposal. My friend's someone no one will dare to say no to." The sheriff boasted.

Feinberg and Farley shared a look and when Farley nodded at him with a mischievous smile, Feinberg turned to speak to Lloyd. "Your friend." He said. "He's in for a real disappointment."

"Why is that?" Lloyd asked.

"Massie met someone while she was in New York City." Feinberg said.

"It was love at first sight." Farley managed to say the whole lie without laughing.

"That's not completely true." Feinberg argued. "She's known Derrick for a long time."

"No, she's known about him but she has never met him until last week."

"Who are you talking about?"

"Derrick."

"Derrick who?" The sheriff demanded, his frustration apparent.

"Special Agent Derrick Harrington."

"The man Massie's in love with." Farley added. "He's Spencer's best friend. Guess it's meant to be."

"That ought to infuriate your friend." Feinberg said when Lloyd remained silent. Silently brooding.

"Yes. Brenner would probably kill his mother."

The sheriff had unknowingly blurted out the name of his dear old friend but neither Farley or Feinberg was going to tell him that error.

"Well, then, we'll probably get on with our work, sheriff." Farley said.

"Yes, yes, you do that." He wasn't paying them any attention.

"We all want Massie's house up and going when she and Derrick arrives, don't we?" Feinberg joked.

Lloyd's head snapped up. "She's bringing him here?"

Both Farley and Feinberg nodded.

Color left Lloyd's face. "Oh, is that so?" He didn't give them time to reply and hastily announced his leave, "I'll leave you boys now. I have errands to run. Have a good day." Then he stormed out of the house.

"Isn't he a sweet thing?" Farley joked. "Mr. Sheriff has errands to run."

"A story to spread." Feinberg added.

"A friend named Brenner to tell."

"Derrick will probably grill us alive when he hears what we told the sheriff."

"And probably the whole town."

They shared a look then burst into laughter.

"That boy's too uptight. He needs some…" Feinberg struggled for the perfect word.

"Surprises." Farley supplied.

"He'll thank us one day." Feinberg concluded with a nod.

"He'll skin us first then he'll thank us."

They laughed again.

"Now, let's get into business." Farley turned serious. "We ought to sweep the whole place clean. God guide us, it would probably take us the whole day to check this nest out."

"We might get lucky." Feinberg hoped.

Luck was indeed on their side. An hour later, they found the video camera tucked high in the corner of the linen closet outside of Massie's bedroom. The camera lens was pressed against the wall and was facing Massie's bed. He'd been watching her sleep.

***

Derrick wasn't talking to her. Massie assumed that he was still angry at her for insisting that she must go back to Westchester. After she'd taunted the madman to come and get her, Derrick went a little crazy then. And that was putting it mildly. Her brothers joined in the shouting match, too, but she held her own and stood up to them. Pete and Noah came to her assistance, flanking her sides like loyal bodyguards. They defended her plan and after what seemed like an eternity, her brothers finally saw the light in Massie's plan and agreed.

Derrick was something else, though. He continued on being difficult. Pete had suggested stepping aside considering the fact that he was far too close to the situation and couldn't be objective. Derrick refused to listen but when Morganstern threatened to take the choice away and have him removed from the case, Derrick took in Spencer, Aiden and Adam's stricken expression, then he too caved.

Pete made a call to his agents to get the ball rolling.

Now, she was finally on her way home, sitting side by side with Derrick in a US Airways plane that was going to take them from New York to Philadelphia. They would drive the rest of the way. Pete told her a car would be waiting for them at the airport. Aiden and Adam were going back to their work while Spencer was staying at New York City for another month. Noah was told to stay with Spencer and act as bodyguard. They all had their tasks and everyone was bent on getting them right.

Massie didn't want to think about what was going to happen once she got there. She nervously flipped through the pages of Time Magazine but she couldn't concentrate, and after reading the same paragraph thrice, she gave up.

How long was Derrick going to give her the silent treatment? He had stopped talking to her the minute they'd entered the airport.

"You're being childish."

He didn't respond. She turned to look at him and noticed how gray his complexion was.

"Are you sick?"

A curt shake of his head was her only answer. Then she noticed his grip on the armrest. "Derrick, what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong."

"Then why won't you talk to me?"

"We'll talk later after the plane lands… unless…"

"Unless what?"

"We crash and die in a fiery ball."

"You're joking."

"No, I'm not."

She couldn't believe it. Macho Man was afraid of flying. He looked like he was going to throw up. His fear was real, and no matter how she thought it was funny, she forced herself to be sympathetic.

"You don't like flying much, do you?" She asked.

"No." He answered curtly before turning to stare out the window again.

"Want to hold my hand?"

"It isn't funny, Massie."

She plied his hand away from the armrest and slipped her fingers through his. "I wasn't teasing. Lots of people don't like to fly."

"Is that right?"

His grip was tight and she could feel the calluses on his hand. Working man's hand, but today, he was dressed like a businessman from Wall Street. Massie thought he looked handsome. Yet despite the devil-may-care smile he constantly put on, Massie knew that he was a sad, depressing man who was alone in this world because of what he do. He was the kind of man who wanted people to be afraid of. And he wasn't disappointed.

The urge to comfort him took Massie by surprise. Before Massie knew what she was doing, she leaned close to him and gently rubbed his palm with her thumb. "We're almost there."

Because he was too preoccupied with listening if they've landed or not, he wasn't aware of her soothing him. "We aren't there until or unless we land."

He was proving difficult to comfort. "Landings aren't dangerous ─"

He snorted. "Only if the pilot knows what he's doing."

"We've only got a few minutes before landing. We're making our final descent."

His grip on her tightened. "How do you know that?"

"The pilot just announced it."

"You sure of that? Cause I am as sure as hell didn't hear him announce anything."

"I am."

"You sure?"

"Yes."

He took a deep breath then told himself to calm down.

"Derrick?"

"What?" Now he sounded surly.

"In your line of work… don't you dodge bullets… and don't you go to life-and-death cases sometimes? You're and FBI agent for heaven's sake. The cream of the crop. Yet you're afraid of a little plane ride."

"Ironic, isn't it?"

She ignored the sarcasm in his voice. "I think you should talk to someone about this… fear of yours. You could talk to Pete, you know."

He didn't feel like telling her that Pete's amusement to his phobia matched hers. "Maybe." He shrugged.

Because he was looking at her, he didn't notice the ground coming up to meet the plane. The landing was smooth and uneventful and after they've taxied to the gate, Derrick's complexion was turning healthy again.

"Don't you want to get down and kiss the ground?"

"It's plain cruel to make fun of another man's phobia, Massie."

"I wasn't making fun."

"Sure you were." He moved into the aisle, flipped open the overhead compartment and pulled down the bags. "You've got a real mean streak inside you." He said.

He stepped back so she could stand in front of him. "I do?"

"Yeah. I like that."

She laughed. "Pretty cocky now that your feet's glued safe to the ground, aren't you?"

"I'm always cocky." He boasted as he nudged her to the exit.

As they threaded their way through the crows, Derrick noticed almost all the men, attached and unattached, admiring Massie. One actually was bold enough to follow them and try to engage Massie into conversation but one glare from Derrick made him scoot away.

By the time Derrick and Massie reached the black Mercedes waiting for them, Derrick was losing his patience with her. He barely said a civilized greeting to the agent waiting for them and curtly nodded when the agent handed a folder and the keys to him. Even the agent was taken with Massie. Agent Tanner staggered to open the front seat door for Massie and when she granted him a breathtaking smile, he blinked twice and stammered his goodbye.

"Close the window." Derrick ordered in a hard voice after he slung his jacket at the backseat and started the engine.

Massie, confused with why he was suddenly angry again, immediately obeyed and did as he said. Derrick instantly drove away. When they were already past the airport gates, he glanced sideways at Massie and scowled at her.

She stared back innocently.

"You wear your skirt too short." He said.

"I didn't pack other clothes with me except the ones I've worn the day I arrived and the evening dress I wore at the Met Gala." She explained, wondering why in heaven's name he was so worked up.

"Then, you wear your legs too long."

Massie stared at him in disbelief. "Then, close your eyes." She snapped.

"I could but other men couldn't even if you ask them to."

"What the hell's the matter with you?" Massie couldn't help but ask.

"Nothing."

Massie stared at him for a few seconds, remembered her comments about her legs, and then glared out the window.

Putting up with the man was one thing. She could handle that. But living with him was going to be the death of her.

Derrick was thinking of almost the same thing. Keeping men off of her was like cupcake. But keeping _his_ hands off of her was going to be like battling a hundred lions at the same time.

The next following weeks was going to be eventful, alright.

**I like the part where Derrick said Massie wears her legs too long. Haha. And the airplane part. :D**

**To gallaghergrl - I'm thinking about it. But I already have plans for Noah and for Derrick and Massie. It'll be a surprise.**

**Don't hesitate to make suggestions, alright? Even though I already have plans, I'll try to squeeze it in. :)**

**Review?**


	9. Chapter 8

**As promised…**

**I own nothing.**

Chapter 8

They stopped by a diner after spending thirty minutes on the road. Massie slid in the booth by the front window. Derrick sat down beside her. There wasn't much room left.

He immediately reached for the sticky, plasticized menu standing on end behind the salt and pepper. He ordered two double hamburgers, a double order of fries and two milkshakes.

"Don't you want to sit across from me?" She asked, plainly curious, when the waitress whose eyes were glued on Derrick left to fetch their order.

"No." He replied. "Why am I making you uncomfortable?"

Massie thought about it for a moment then shook her head. "Even though I 'm dying to throttle you because you're the most stubborn, opinionated, obnoxious and exasperating man on earth, I must admit having you around makes me feel safe and protected. So, yeah, I'm comfortable with you." She admitted.

Derrick looked pleased.

She pinched him and ignored him when he said, "ow!". "You don't need to look so pleased." She said.

Derrick rubbed his arm. "It's important that you feel comfortable with me because we'll be spending a lot of time together."

She was quiet for a moment. Derrick wondered what was going on in that pretty little head of hers.

"Do we spend _every_ time together, Derrick?" She finally asked.

He didn't miss a beat. "When you brush your teeth, I'll squeeze the toothpaste."

They were momentarily interrupted when the waitress loudly arrived. She took her precious time serving their order, deliberately brushed her arm against Derrick's chest when she handed him his order, winked at him and sashayed away.

Massie was shaking her head when Derrick spoke again. He seemed oblivious to the fact that the redhead waitress flirted with him.

"You and I are going to be inseparable, Massie." He said as he poured catsup on his burger.

"Do you mean that the first thing in the morning you'll be standing on my doorstep while I get dressed?"

"No, that's not what I mean. I'll get dressed with you. What side of the bed do you sleep on?"

She was just picking up her burger when he made that comment. Her hand stopped midway and she glanced at him, startled. "I beg your pardon?"

He repeated the question.

"The right side."

"Then I'm on the left." Then he took a huge bite on his burger.

"Are you joking?"

He swallowed first. "About the bed? Yeah, I am. But I'm going to do whatever is necessary to keep you safe. I'm going to blatantly invade your privacy and you're going to let me."

"What happens when I take a shower?" She asked.

"I'll hand you the soap."

"Now, I know you're joking."

Derrick placed his burger back on the platter and half-turned to face her. "Massie, I'm going to be close enough to rub your back. That's the way it's going to be. You need to understand that I'm going to be the first thing in the morning and the last thing in the night those pretty little eyes of yours will see. You and I are in this together."

"But if you're going to spend all your time with me, how will you be able to catch him?"

"I work in a powerful organization, Massie, remember? But if you're really determined to know, there are FBI agents in Westchester as we speak, disguising themselves as normal people. Leave it to us to catch him. It's what we're trained to do. Now, enough talking. Finish eating. We've got to get on the road fast and get to Westchester before nightfall."

They finished their meal in silence and Derrick paid. When he handed the payment to the waitress, he winked at her and told her to keep the change.

"You knew she was flirting with you, didn't you?" Massie asked when they were in the car and Derrick was pulling away the diner.

Derrick smirked. "Of course, I was. She was literally making a scene to grab my attention. I don't blame her."

Massie laughed. "You know, you really have to do something about your arrogance. It's almost a disease. No. It's already a disease."

He laughed, too. "You did know she was sparing you some murderous glares, too, right?"

Massie raised an eyebrow. "She was?"

"You really didn't notice?"

She nodded.

"She thought we were together."

Massie snorted. Then when she happened to glance at the side mirrors, something caught her attention. "That gray Honda's been following us since we left the airport." She told Derrick.

"That and the blue sedan." Derrick explained, glancing at the rearview mirror.

"Are they gonna follow us to Westchester?"

"Yes."

"How many agents are waiting for us there?"

"Enough." After answering her, he went through the list of things she wasn't supposed to do and ended with the same reminder he's given her at least ten times now. "You don't believe what anyone tells you and you don't go anywhere without me. You got it?"

"Yes, I've got it."

"Good. Let's go over your daily routine again."

"You should've memorized it now."

"Okay, let's see if I do. We get up at seven every morning, do our stretching exercises ─"

"To limber up." She supplied.

"Yeah, right, and we go running… God help me… three and a half miles, start to finish. We take the path around the lake, beginning at the western tip and we always go at the same direction."

"Yes."

"I hate running. It's bad for the knees, you know."

"I find it invigorating. Maybe you will, too." She said. "You look like in good shape. You can run three and a half miles, can't you?"

"Sure I can, but I'm going to be bitching the entire time." **(I got that from a cousin. Hah.)**

She laughed. "I'll look forward to that."

"Okay. So then we go back home and…"

When he paused, she assumed she was supposed to continue. "And we shower and change into work clothes. We walk two blocks to the time square. I'll spend most of the day getting my loft organized and unpack boxes while the workmen finish up downstairs. With that luck, I could be opening soon." And then in a lower voice, she added, "I hope by that time, this is all over."

"Yeah, well, we're all hoping that. But considering the call he made to you, he's going to move fast, alright. Real fast."

"I hope so." The wistfulness was there in her tone.

"So, why do you live in such a small town?" The change of topic was deliberate, of course.

"I like it."

"I don't believe it. You're a big-city girl at heart."

"Actually, I'm not at all. If you have forgotten, I lived almost ten years in a small town and before, I was isolated. Mother didn't want me to go out much. Aiden kept me under lock and key, too. And I really like Westchester, Derrick. The people there are so nice and affectionate and caring."

"Yeah, well, if you like it, then why did you not buy the house you're renting after your grandma's house burned when she died?"

"Mrs. Talbot didn't want to sell it yet and even though she's currently living in a nursing home, she isn't ready to let it go. Besides, I'm thinking of buying a cabin by the lake. It still needs a lot of work, though."

"Then why haven't you purchased it yet?"

"Steve Brenner."

"The Westchester Advancement Society guy?"

"He owns the cabin."

"I think the guy wants to own _you_."

"What?"

"It seems that when Agent Farley and Feinberg went over to check your house, your nosy neighbor called in the sheriff."

"Looks like L.A got some action."

"L.A?"

She smiled. "Lard Ass." She muttered. "It's the town's nickname for him. He really is an ass, though."

"What happened when he showed up? Did he know they were FBI agents? They must've told him."

"No, they didn't and wouldn't tell him anything, but the odd thing is, he never asked. He was busy telling them Steve Brenner's designs on you. Seems Brenner's telling everyone he's going to marry you."

"He's an idiot."

"Sounds like it. Farley and Feinberg told the sheriff that you and I are romantically involved and he couldn't wait to leave. What?" Derrick pretended he didn't know the reason why Massie gasped out loud.

"They told him what?"

"That you and I are romantically involved." He repeated, chuckling over her horrified expression.

"What?"

"That you and I are seeing each other."

Massie shook her head, blinking at the same time. "What?"

"Seriously? You've asked me to repeat the answer twice now. Does my handsomeness strike you dumb?"

She slapped him and the car didn't even swerve. "They told him we're together and now, the whole town will believe that lie. How could they, Derrick? For the love of all that's holy, I live in a small town where there are enough rumors to make me want to die! Oh, my. I could hear the rumors. Now, that hag Olivia Ryans must be rejoicing! She has another gossip to put on her Massie Block corner in the newspaper. Now, why are you laughing?"

Massie looked so appalled that Derrick forced himself to stop laughing. "Do you know that you speak French when you're riled up?" He asked her in fluent French.

Massie calmed herself while Derrick silently laughed.

"So, is it true there's a Massie Block corner at the local newspaper?" Derrick asked.

Massie looked at him, confused.

"You just said ─"

"Oh, yeah. No, that's a figure of speech. But every week, the center of the Society page is reserved for me. Olivia sniffs around town for scoops about me. She doesn't give a damn if it's true or not. And she usually embellishes."

He laughed.

"Seriously, Derrick, I don't see why you find this funny." Massie placed a halt to his uncontrollable laughter. "People will start talking. As if you living in the same house with me isn't enough to get them to appear at my doorstep any time of the day or plant cameras around the house just to spy on what we're doing." She mumbled.

"Speaking of cameras, I have something to tell you. And promise you won't freak out, okay?" Derrick asked.

Curious, Massie nodded. They were already entering Westchester.

"Farley and Feinber… the agents I mentioned awhile ago…"

"Yes?" She prodded when he hesitated.

"When they searched your house, they found a video camera."

"Where did they find it?"

"In the linen closet upstairs. There was a perfectly drilled hole about the size of half an aspirin. The camera's eye was facing your bed. You never would have noticed it. It's right in the center of a flower in your wallpaper."

She felt as though all the air had been knocked out of her lungs and spun around her seat and unconsciously clutched his forearm. "How long has it been there?"

"The dust covering it tells us it's been there some time, maybe weeks, but I can't tell you how many days and nights."

"Don't ever hold back any information from me again, alright? You know something, you tell me." She said.

"We'll be living together. I'll tell you everything."

She let go of his arm. "I know you warned me that he'd been watching me sleep. And the pictures he sent proved to us that he'd watched me get dress and undress. But there's some nights when…"

She didn't go on. She couldn't look him in the eye. She turned to stare at her lap instead and saw that she was scraping her skin till blood came out. She covered it with the other hand. "I feel like I've done something I should be ashamed of. There were nights when I didn't feel like wearing a nightgown. It was hot." She said.

"What you do in the privacy of your bedroom…"

"But that's just it." She cried out. "I haven't been entertaining. I slept. But what if I did? Oh, my God…"

"Massie ─"

"No, forget it." She suddenly said. Her voice was surprisingly firm and controlled.

"It's okay to be ─"

"I said forget it!" She snapped. "Oh, God, I'm sorry." She dropped her head on her lap and promptly burst into tears.

He pulled over to the side of the road, put the car in park, and reached for Massie. She threw her arms around him and he rubbed her shoulders.

They stayed like that for ten minutes. Massie, soaking Derrick's shirt with tears. Derrick, soothing her with soft words. When she finally calmed down, she whispered to his chest. "Thank you." And when she was pulling away, she saw the damage she caused on his shirt. "Oh, God! I'm sorry. I ruined your shirt." She was about to burst into tears again but Derrick grabbed hold of her shoulders.

In a hard voice, he said, "Crying wouldn't make a difference, Massie. Remember, you were the one who demanded this plan. We told you about the danger and the surprises waiting for us but, remember what you told us?"

Massie nodded. "I won't let him kill other innocent woman again. He should be stopped."

Derrick smiled with a nod. "If you keep on freaking out every time you hear something… unpleasant, we won't succeed. He'll use your fear against you and fear will bring us down. Fear will be his victory. Don't give him that. We won't be giving him that. There will be surprises and I'll be trying my damndest to anticipate them but you've got to handle it. You understand? I can't be worried about how your reacting and try to put you back together ─"

She put her hand on his arm. "I promise. I won't freak out. At least I'll try."

He could hear the determination in his voice and he smiled. "Good." He started the engine again and went back on the road. "Remember, we've got to catch this guy."

"Yes. And we're going to catch him." Massie agreed.

***

"Let's go to Wesson first. I turn on Oak Street, don't I?" Derrick asked as they drove around the city.

"Yes. You'd make a left on Oak if you're going to my house and a right if you're going to the lake."

The twin steeples of Assumption Abbey rose up in the dance. The gothic structure had been built on top of a hill overlooking the little pristine town. It was magnificent. The drab grayness of the massive stone was broken by brilliant stained glass windows and a long, winding path that led up to the doors.

Derrick slowed the car as he drove past the wrought iron fence surrounding the property. There were giant oaks everywhere. They clustered protectively against the south and north sides of the abbey.

"Westchester reminds me of a New England town."It's got that kind of charm. Does your house have a white picket fence?" Derrick asked.

"No, but my neighbor does."

They reached the stop sign on Oak. Derrick turned right and they headed down another tree-lined street. "I feel like I'm in a time warp. I keep expecting Richie Cunningham driving down the street in a '57 Chevy convertible." **(My uncle always says that when we visit my grandfather's house. It's an insult for my uncle but my grandpa takes it as a compliment)**

"He lives two blocks over." She teased.

As they neared the lake, the houses were more modest. It was apparent that the families living in here took pride to their half-a-century homes and their town.

They passed a deserted baseball field, continued west, past a filling station, through a pair of rough timber post and into the park.

"This place is crammed with kids from college in the spring and fall. The local high school kids take it over in the summer." Massie said.

Derrick rolled down the window and propped his elbow on the side. The earthy smell overwhelmed him. They reached a fork in the road, and straight ahead was the clear lake.

The cabin where Wesson placed his command post was tucked in between the trees. Derrick pulled into the driveway and turned off the motor.

"It doesn't look like anyone's home."

Massie made that comment at the same time the front door opened. Through the screen, she could see a man with thick, black-rimmed glasses peering out at them.

Derrick made her stay in the car while he went around and opened her door for her. His eyes never remained still. He was constantly searching the area around them, barely paying her attention as he offered her his hand.

"Is that Julius Wesson?" Massie asked.

"No. That's Matt Feinberg. He's our electronic guy. He's nice, too. You'll like him." Derrick said as he led toward the agent.

The agent under discussion waited until they reached him, opened the door, and stepped back. He was average in height and built. He wore glasses and had a wonderful, sincere smile.

After the preliminaries were exchanged, he asked, "Did Derrick already tell you that Agent Farley and I went through your house?"

Massie nodded. "Yes. You were the one who found the camera and told the sheriff Derrick and I are romantically involved with each other." She narrowed her eyes at him.

Feinberg blushed. "Oh, um, well…" He looked at Derrick for help but Derrick was just grinning a you-take-care-of-the-mess-you-created grin at him. "While we were inside, your neighbor called the sheriff. He wouldn't leave and he kept parading to us Brenner's plan on you. He pissed us off. Well, we just thought you wouldn't mind." He forced to laugh.

Massie stared at him for awhile then smiled. "Nah. It's okay. It's not like I haven't been the topic of gossip here. But, hey, I'm still alive, right?"

Derrick was the one who frowned this time.

They were interrupted when they heard a door open and they looked up to the balcony just as Julius Wesson stepped out. He was talking on his cell phone and was carrying a stack of papers.

Wesson was tall, wiry, and partially bald. He had piercing eyes but after he greeted Derrick and Massie, he ignored them and continued with his phone conversation. She watched him go to the table and drop the papers on it. Then Feinberg drew her attention.

He handed her a gold watch. It looked like an old-fashioned Timex with a gold stretch band. "We'd like you to wear this all the time, alright? And we don't ever want you to take it off, not even in the shower. It's water repellent, of course. There's a tracking device inside so that we'll be able to know where you were and keep track on your whereabouts."

Massie removed her own watch and slipped on the new one. Since she left her purse in the car and she had no pockets, she handed her old watch to Derrick and he tucked it in the pocket of shirt.

Wesson hung upon the phone. He nodded to Massie when Derrick introduced her to him but he didn't waste any time on pleasantries. "I'm ready for him," he said briskly. "I don't like surprises therefore you don't leave Westchester without my permission first. Clear?"

"Yes." She replied.

Wesson finally got around with acknowledging Derrick. The commander was establishing a pecking order, letting Massie and Derrick know he was the man in charge.

Personally, Derrick thought he was an asshole. He didn't like him one bit. But he was stuck with him whether he liked it or not. Wesson had an ego the size of Iowa but as long as he didn't get in the way of the operation, Derrick thought they'd get along just fine.

"Morganstern wants you to call him." Wesson said.

"They get anything from the call?" Derrick asked.

Feinberg answered. "They were able to lock in the call the unsub made to Massie. The phone was owned by a woman named Tiffany Tyler and the call was made from Central Park."

Feinberg stepped forward. "The highway patrol found her car parked on the southern part of Central Park. The left black tire was flat and there wasn't a spare left. We think she willingly got into the unsub's vehicle but that's just an assumption. We also think he never touched her car but even so our techs went on to check it. It's an old Chevy truck so there were prints in and out. They're running them now."

"We don't believe any of the prints belong to our man, though." Wesson directly explained to Massie. "He's real careful. Real, real, real careful."

Feinberg nodded. "And methodical. There wasn't a singly smudge or half print on that tape he left at the police."

"We want you to start irritating him." Wesson said. "Hopefully, he'll lose control and mess up, and we'll get a lucky break."

"Tiffany the woman I heard screaming over the phone?" Massie asked.

"Yes, she is." He answered. "He used her phone to call you."

"Have you found her yet?"

"No." The answer was clipped, his lips were pinched. He acted as though she criticized him personally.

"I'm sure she isn't dead. Don't you ─"

"Of course not." He impatiently cut her off. "She's dead, no doubt about it."

His cold attitude rattled her. "But why would he pick her up in the first place? If he's so careful and if he studies his victims first, why did he do such a spontaneous thing? Did Tiffany have anything in common with me?"

"She was a stripper." Wesson answered and gave him a rude once-over. His gaze lingered longer on her breast and legs.

Massie was about to give him hell for what he was implying when Feinberg answered her. "We're pretty sure he killed her to get our attention. He wants us to know that he's the real thing."

Derrick took hold of her hand. "And Tiffany was convenient. She was helpless and his for the taking."

Wesson stepped closer to Derrick. "Just so you understand, you're here solely as Massie's bodyguard. Your job is to protect her every minute. No distractions." He glanced at Massie when he said the last sentence.

Wesson's tone had been antagonistic. Nick's was mild in comparison. "I know what my job is."

"And the plan is to enrage him. So, you've got to put on quite a show for everyone." Wesson pressed.

Derrick nodded.

Wesson wasn't quite finished putting Derrick in his place. "My team will do the real work and catch this guy."

"The real work?"

Wesson wasn't given time to answer because his phone suddenly rang. Derrick was already opening the door to leave with Massie. He turned back when he heard Wesson exclaim, "Hot damn."

Derrick waited until he finished the conversation. "Hot damn what?" He asked.

Wesson smiled smugly. "We've got a crime scene."

**So, what do you think? I know that this story has a slow pace but I want it to be natural, you know. I don't want to jump into the next thing just so we could get to the juicy parts. We're gonna take it one bite at a time. I'll try my best not to make the chapters boring. **

**If you have reviewed in the past chapter which I uploaded a few minutes ago, please leave a review still. I want to hear your views about this. Alright? Alright.**

**So, yeah, REVIEW. :)**


	10. Chapter 9

**Thank you all for the WONDERFUL reviews. Really. I appreciate all of them. Your reviews made my day brighter. :) I'm happy you, people, were okay with the slow pace of the story. It bugs me sometimes that you find the chapters boring. **

**If you're looking for nice stories, read _Love? Impossible by . _**

**I own nothing.**

* * *

Chapter 9

Julius Wesson was a prick. He was also crass, obnoxious, rude and arrogant, and his people skills sucked. Worse, he lacked compassion. The agent's response to hearing that a farmer had stumbled upon mutilated body of eighteen-year-old Tiffany Tyler had been grossly inappropriate. Wesson had been downright jubilant. Shouting with glee, the man had all but broken out in song, and what had made his unbridled enthusiasm all the more obscene was that Massie, a civilian, was there watching him.

Derrick wanted to get her out of the cabin before she saw or heard anything more, and deal with Wesson later, but when he took hold of Massie's arm, she jerked him off. What she did next did only not surprised him but raised his admiration a notch.

She made Wesson squirm. She got right into his face so he couldn't ignore her, and then she gave him hell. She reminded him that a young girl had been murdered, and if he couldn't feel any remorse or pity for poor Tiffany, then perhaps he should consider a different line of work.

When Wesson began to argue, Derrick took over, but his language was much cruder than hers.

"That's going in my report." Wesson threatened.

"See that it does." Derrick countered.

Wesson decided to end the conversation. "Just do what I tell you to do and we'll catch him."

She didn't back down. "And I keep my opinions to myself?"

He didn't see any need to answer her. Turning back to the computer, he ignored Massie.

Massie swung around. "Derrick, could I use your phone?" He handed it to her. "What's Dr. Pete Morganstern's number?"

Wesson did a one-eighty on his swivel chair and sprang to his feet. "If you have any problems, you bring it to me."

"I don't think so."

"Excuse me?"

"I said I don't think so."

Wesson looked at Derrick for help in dealing with the difficult woman. Derrick simply stared back at him as he rattled off Morganstern's number. "Just hit thirty-two. It'll speed dial the number for you."

"Look, ma'am, I know I sounded…"

She paused in dialing. "Callous, Mr. Wesson. You sounded coldhearted, cruel, and callous."

Wesson's jaw tightened and he narrowed his eyes at her. "It doesn't do us any good to be personally involved in this. We want to catch him before more dead bodies appear."

"Her name was Tiffany." Derrick reminded.

"I'd like you to say her name." Massie told him.

Shaking his head resignedly, he said, "Tiffany. Tiffany Tara Tyler."

She handed the phone back to Derrick and marched out of the cabin. She was inside the car before Derrick could open the door for her.

"What an obnoxious man." She muttered as Derrick pulled away from driveway and drove back to town.

"Yes, he is that." He agreed. "And a few other more."

"I don't get why Pete put a jackass in charge."

"Yeah, well, Pete's only consulting." He said. "O'Leary's the one in charge and Pete works under him."

The sun was just beginning to disappear behind the trees, creating a luminous glow on the lake's surface.

They continued talking about Wesson and Tiffany until Derrick stopped the car at the corner of Oak and Main. A young woman pushing a baby stroller crossed the street in front of them. She paused to give Derrick a once-over and to wave at Massie before continuing on.

"My house is on the next block, second from the corner. But I don't want to go there. I wish we could just check into a motel." She whispered.

"You've got to go home and act like nothing's wrong, remember?"

"I know, but I still don't want to." She said. "I don't ever want to go back into that house."

"I can understand that."

They drove down the street, which was lined with trees older than any of the residents. The light of dusk, filtered by low branches, dappled the yards, but heavy storm clouds were just beginning to loom up on the horizon. Massie saw her house and remembered how charming she thought it was the first time she'd driven up to it. It was old and worn, and she loved it. After she had moved in and had it fixed, the first thing she purchased the next day was a porch swing at the garden shop. Every morning she'd take her cup of tea and sit on the swing while she read the paper. In the evenings, she'd chat with the neighbors tending their yards.

The tranquility she'd felt, the sense of belonging, was gone now, and she didn't know if she would ever get it back.

"Is the camera still there or did they take it away?" She asked.

"It's still there."

"Is it on?"

"Yes. We don't want him to find out that you found it."

"Then he didn't see the agents who went into my bedroom?"

"No, they found it in the hall closet." He reminded her. "They kept out of camera's eye."

He pulled into the driveway and turned the motor off. She was staring at the house, when she asked, "Where would he get something like that? Do they sell transmitters in the stores?"

Before he could answer her, she blurted, "Every time I go into the bedroom, he could be watching."

He put his hand on her knee. "We want him to be watching. This is a really great opportunity to push him. You and I are going to put on a show in front of him. We're going to be very convincing. We want him to be enraged. And, remember what I said? You won't show even a pint of fear."

"Yes, I know what the plan is."

"Are you ready to go in?"

Her nod was brisk.

Derrick could see her anxiety so he decided to take her mind off for the moment. As he opened the door, he said, "Westchester is a pretty town but I'd still go a little crazy if I live here. Where's the traffic? Where's the noise?"

She knew what he was doing. She knew he was helping her cope because he knew she felt overloaded, she realized, and then decided to lighten the conversation.

As she got out, she replied, "You like traffic and noise?"

"It's what I'm used to." He said. They were looking at each other over the top of the car. "You don't get a lot of road rage here, do you?"

"Sure we do. When the sheriff's son, Lonnie, goes joyriding with his friends, a lot of people would love to ram his car. He's a menace and his father had never and would never do anything about it." Her face puckered.

"The local thug, huh?"

"Yes."

She reached back into the car to get her purse while Derrick surveyed the neighborhood. There was a big oak on the front yard, almost as identical as the oak in the neighbor's yard on the corner. The houses were close together and there were trees and overgrown shrubs everywhere ─ too many hiding places. He also noticed there weren't any lights outside or on the porch.

"A burglar's paradise." He remarked. "Too many concealed areas."

"I've got a porch light."

"That's not enough."

"There are people who don't lock their front doors even at night. It's a small town, Derrick, and everyone feels safe."

"Yeah, well, you're locking your doors."

"Yoo-hoo, Massie. You're home."

Derrick turned as a white-haired old lady wearing a bright purple dress with a lace collar opened her screen door and stepped out on her porch. She was clutching a lace handkerchief. She appeared eighty and as thin as a rod\

"We had some excitement while you were away."

"You did?" Massie called back. She went to her neighbor's picket fence and waited for her to tell her what happened.

"Don't make me shout, dear." Bessie Jean gently chided. "Come up here and bring that young man with you."

"Yes, ma'am." Massie said and whispered to Derrick, "She wants to know who you are."

He placed his hand on Massie's shoulder and whispered back, "Show time."

"You're gonna help me straighten this misunderstanding."

"What misunderstanding?"

"About you and me."

"What's to straighten?" He teased.

Massie elbowed him. Hard. But he dodged it neatly. "You. Will. Help. Me." She glared at him.

"Sure, honey."

Massie stomped on his foot which made him laugh out loud.

Bessie Jean stood on her porch, taking it all in. Her eyes were as wide as saucers as she watched the smiling couple.

Oh, yes. She heard it all. She heard from Laura, Sheriff's secretary, that Massie was coming home and was bringing her boyfriend with her.

The picket fence ran the perimeter of the front yard. Derrick paused to open the door and with Massie at his side, he walked to the porch.

"What was the excitement all about?" Massie asked.

"A hooligan broke into your house." Bessie Jean lowered her voice as if they were sharing a secret. Then she narrated all that happened.

While Massie and Bessie Jean were talking, Derrick's eyes were scanning the area. He saw another woman, peering outside from the window. He smiled at her and waved.

"Now, who is this handsome young man standing so close to you? I'm quite sure he looks familiar." Turning her full attention to Derrick, she whispered, "Now, tell me, young man. Are you a celebrity? Now, why are you laughing?" She glared at Massie when she burst into a fit of laughter.

Massie pursed her lips together and quietly pinched Derrick who looked both amused and confused at Bessie Jean. "I'm sorry for being rude."

Bessie Jean nodded sternly before continuing her conversation with Derrick. "Vivian, come outside!" She shouted.

Vivian came out a scant later. She was taller than her sister by two inches but was younger than her by five years. Both sisters looked alike.

"Doesn't this young man look family?" Bessie Jean asked her sister as they both stared at Derrick. "Oh! I know! He's that handsome boy at a young adult sitcom! What's the title again? I can't remember."

"Gossip Girl." Vivian supplied.

"Yes! That was you, wasn't it?" Bessie Jean asked Derrick. "Now, I know why you look so familiar." She smiled, satisfied that she finally figured who the attractive stranger was.

Massie and Derrick were pinching each other from behind. They were grinning; Massie, amused. Derrick, smug.

When Massie found her voice, she said, "Actually, he's not an actor." She said. Bessie Jean and Vivian looked confused. "Bessie Jean, Vivian, this is Derrick Harrington. He's my brother's best friend." And remembering the misunderstanding Farley and Feinberg started, she added quickly, "And we're not together. He's like family so we're not together."

Bessie Jean and Vivian shared a look then they stared from Massie and Derrick. They broke into malicious grins but nodded.

"So, if you're not an actor, what do you do, Mr. Harrington?" Bessie Jean asked. She was always the blunter between her and her sister.

"I'm with the FBI, ma'am." Derrick replied.

Vivian snapped her hands in the air. "Now, I know why you look so familiar."

_Here we go again_, Derrick and Massie thought at the same time.

"Bessie Jean, he's that guy who saved the president's little girl last year from that crazy madman, Donald Stark." Vivian said.

"Now, I remember!" Bessie Jean said.

While Bessie Jean and Vivian invited them inside and interrogated Derrick about the Stark case, Massie was watching him. She noticed that from the time Vivian mentioned about Donald Stark, he'd gone rigid and his eyes were distant even as he answered the old women's questions. Derrick remained like that all throughout the whole conversation and even when they were invited to have dinner with the sisters.

"What's wrong with you?" Massie asked as she and Derrick walked away from Vanderman sisters' house to Massie's.

"Nothing." He answered curtly.

"Is it about the Stark case?" She asked.

He turned to glare at her. "Leave it alone, Massie." He snapped.

She glared back. "Fine. I was only trying to help." She left him staring after her at her front lawn.

"Ah, hell." Derrick muttered and went after Massie. He saw the hurt in her expression and heard the hurt in her voice.

She was fumbling to open the front door when Derrick intercepted and grabbed the keys.

"Look, Massie, I'm sorry for snapping at you." He was about to explain when she cut her off.

Massie was smiling at him but he could see tears in her eyes. "No, no, it's fun. I understand. I don't have any position to question you. Really. It's okay." By the time she was finishing, she was already crying.

Derrick pulled her into his arms. "I'm sorry. I know my words hurt you. It's difficult for me to speak about it. I hope you understand." He didn't know why he was soothing her or stroking her back but all he knew was that he hated seeing her upset.

Massie sniffed. God! She was acting like a typical small-town girl. She didn't want him to think she was stupid and naïve. She ordered herself to calm down and pushed herself out of his arms. "I'm fine and dead tired." She took the keys from him and unlocked the front door.

Derrick let it go and followed behind her, carrying his bags while she carried hers. The phone rang just as Massie started up the stairs with her overnight bag. She dropped it on the floor, switched on a light and hurried back down to the living room. Derrick had warned her that there would always be an FBI agent inside her house, so she wasn't taken by surprise when the swinging door to the kitchen opened an d a man dressed in black pants, blue shirt and a beige jacket came hurrying towards her. There was a gun clipped to his belt and a sandwich on his hand.

He beat her to the phone which was on a desk between the living room and the dining room, checked the caller ID, picked up a headset attached to the base of the phone and motioned her forward.

From the number displayed, she knew it was Claire Lyons calling. She was Massie's best friend and would soon be a friend.

"Hi. How did you know I was back?"

"This is Westchester, remember?" Claire said. "So tell me, is it true? Did some man actually threaten you in New York City? I swear I'm never letting you leave town again."

"Don't worry." Massie assured her friend. "It was just some guy who didn't have anything in life to do. I'm not worried about him at all."

"That's a relief." Massie sighed. "Okay, then, tell me, who's the hunk?"

"Excuse me?"

Claire's laughter erupted over the phone. The sound always made Massie smile.

"I asked, who is he?" Claire prodded.

"I don't know what you're talking about." She murmured.

"Stop playing games. I'm dying of curiosity. Who is the hunk you brought home?"

Massie sighed in defeat. "His name is Derrick Harrington. Do you remember that my brother lived with the Harringtons all throughout his college years?"

"I remember."

"Derrick's Spencer's best friend." She said. "I never met him until last weekend."

"And?"

"And what?"

"Have you gone to bed with him yet?"

Massie could feel herself blushing. "Hold on a minute, will you?"

She put her hand over the mouthpiece and whispered to the agent, "Do you need to listen in on this private conversation?"

The agent was trying hard not to smile. He put the headset down and walked away. She pulled a chair out and sat down by the desk, facing the wall.

"All right, I'm back." She said, grabbing a ballpoint pen and began to click it open and shut.

"Did you?"

"Did I what?"

"Stop being evasive. Did you go to bed with him yet? I heard he's gorgeous." Claire said.

Massie laughed. "Claire, you shouldn't ask questions like that."

"I'm your dearest friend, right?"

"Yes, but ─"

"And I'm worried about you. You need sex, Massie. It will be good for your complexion."

Massie began to scribble on the notepad. "What's wrong with my complexion?"

"Nothing sex couldn't fix. It will bring color to your cheeks."

"I'll use blush."

Claire let out a loud, exaggerated sigh. "You aren't gonna tell me, are you?"

"There's nothing to tell."

"Is he really just a friend of your brother?"

She turned in the chair to look at Derrick. He was standing in the front hallway with the other agent and was nodding at something he was saying. His expression was somber until he caught her staring at him. Then he smiled that smile that made Massie wish they were more than the I'm-just-your-best-friend's-sister-and-your-just-simply-protecting-me-from-a-psychopath relationship. \

"Earth to Massie. Hello? You there?" Claire interrupted her fantasizing.

Massie shook her head and turned back to the wall. "What?"

Claire was quiet for two seconds. "Oh, my God! You're in love with him, aren't you?"

"No!" Massie didn't mean to shout. She glanced at the men and found them watching her. She looked away, blushing.

"Uh-huh. I'll pretend I believe you." Claire snickered.

"Honestly, Claire, I'm not." Massie forced a serene tone. "He's just a friend."

"Alright. I believe you." Claire said.

"How did you find out so quickly about him?"

"The hotline. While Bessie Jean was standing out front, her sister snuck back inside and called my mother." Claire told her.

"Oh."

"Oh, heck. Mother's yelling at me. I have to hang up. Don't forget picnic's at five on Wednesday. Don't be late." **(Take note it's Monday)**

There was a picnic party tomorrow across the lake to welcome the new renovated church and to formally open the town's anniversary which was two weeks from now.

"I don't understand why the abbot scheduled the party so soon. The anniversary is two weeks from now."

"It's the only time that would work with his busy schedule." Claire explained.

Massie heard Claire shout to her mother that she'd be right down and then spoke into the phone again. "Mother's becoming a nervous wreck with the wedding preparations."

"I should let you go now. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"I won't be here tomorrow morning, remember? I'm going to Philadelphia to get my new brace."

"Who's driving you?"

"Dad." She answered. "If this one doesn't fit, he's going to raise hell. Because of their screw ups, I've spent a week to learn how to walk without a limp."

"If anyone can do it, you can. Want me to do anything while you're away?"

"Yeah. Get some color on your cheeks."

Claire was laughing when they hung up.

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**Claire's like a little twit here. Haha. **

**So, what do you think? **

**Julius Wesson's an a-hole, right? Ugh. Hate that guy.**

**FYI. I'm taking a very short break. My parents (ugh) are pissed at me. They say that I'm making my room my home and my laptop my food and water. So, yeah, you get the idea. I'm cooling off for two days, maybe three. It depends. Hope by that time my rents are back to being practical. :D**

**Review?**


	11. Chapter 10

**Yay! Damn sweet success! Haha. Forgive me for the curse word but, hell, I'm so happy. I spent yesterday bargaining with my parents and finally they agreed. Although, bargaining with my mother was tough. But was sure as fun.**

**Thank you, thank you, thank you for ALL the amazing reviews. Your enthusiam and appreciation are my food and water. **

**I own nothing.**

* * *

Chapter 10

Massie heard Derrick coming towards her and when she was finished saying her goodbyes to Claire, she saw him leaning against the doorframe, watching her. His hair was tousled on his forehead and she was once again dumbstruck by how sexy he was. Maybe Claire was right. Maybe what she needed was concentrating on putting some color on her cheeks.

What would he be like in bed? Oh, God. She couldn't believe she was letting her mind conjure up such thoughts. She quickly pushed the budding fantasies away. She wasn't a teenager anymore. She was an adult and there wasn't anything wrong with remaining celibate until the right man comes, right? Derrick wasn't the right man. He wasn't.

But, maybe…

She groaned. It was all Claire's fault for feeding her mind with such thoughts. "I'm gonna kill her." She muttered unconsciously.

"Who are you gonna kill?" Derrick asked.

"What?" Massie forgot he was there and when her eyes met his, she quickly lowered her gaze to his chest. Oh, God! Mistake. She looked at his feet instead. Mistake again. She looked at her lap, thinking it was safe.

Derrick smiled over Massie's behavior. "Joe said you have a lot of messages stored on your machine. Go ahead and listen to them."

She nodded and thanked him.

Derrick carried her bag upstairs while she listened to her messages. There was only one disturbing message. It was from Olivia Ryans, demanding "sweetly" for a private interview about her new love interest. After hearing that, Massie slammed her fist against the desk.

A clap of thunder rumbled in a distance. Massie slumped back against the chair, wringing her hands around the telephone wire, imagining that it was Olivia Ryans's neck. Ooh, she was going to kill her. Wait till that hag sees her! She will surely give Olivia hell.

She jumped when Derrick touched her shoulder.

"What the hell are you doing with that wire?" Derrick noticed what she was doing when he came down from upstairs.

Massie smiled sweetly up at him. "I'm imagining it's Olivia Ryans's neck."

He had to laugh at how her face and her tone contradicted each other. She looked so sweet. She sounded downright furious.

He forced her to stand up and pulled her towards the kitchen where the agent was waiting.

"Massie, I want you to meet Agent Joe Farley. He's going to be staying with us." Derrick introduced.

Joe stood up and shook her hand. "Nice to meet you, ma'am."

Massie smiled serenely at him, putting aside her plan to kill Olivia for later. "Please call me Massie."

"Alright." He said. "If you call me Joe."

Derrick was watching them from the doorframe. He noticed how the agent was taken with Massie. Joe was still holding her hand and was standing too close for Derrick's liking. Without stopping himself, he walked over to them in two long strides and hauled Massie to his side. "Now that we're done with the pleasantries, we ought to turn to the more important things, shouldn't we?" he was glaring at Joe who was grinning back at him.

Massie couldn't help but feel the possessiveness in Derrick's touch. But for some crazy reason, she found it comforting.

She laughed when Joe winked at her.

"We'll talk later then." He said teasingly.

"You're a terrible flirt."

"Am I?" Joe feigned surprise. "I was told I was an effective flirt."

"You should arrest them then." Massie played along.

"And why is that?"

"'Cause they lied to a federal agent."

They burst into laughter. Only Derrick was the one who didn't find their joke amusing.

"Okay, enough, enough." Derrick said impatiently.

Massie rolled her eyes and shared a smirk with Joe. She leaned down against the counter, propped herself up on the elbows and folded her hands under her chin. Joe was sitting across her while Derrick was leaning against the wall on her right. Massie kept her eyes on Joe. "Do you usually work with Derrick?" She asked.

"I have a few times." He answered. "I'm usually stuck in an office, so this is quite a change for me. I hope you don't mind but Feinberg and I made a couple of changes in your alarm system. It isn't fancy but it will get the job done."

She glanced at Derrick. "I don't have an alarm system."

"You do now." Derrick answered.

Joe explained. "We've wired all the windows and the doors so that when anyone comes inside, we'll all know it. A red light will flash but the alarm won't make any noise." He assured her. "We don't want to spook the unsub. We want to draw him inside and nail him. Hopefully, he won't know he's triggered the setup. Of course, any stranger that comes near your house is going to get marked by the agents outside."

"The house is being watched?"

"Yes, it is."

"How long will you be staying here?" she asked.

"Until the first of July… if we haven't caught the unsub before then. I'll leave when you do."

Her head was spinning. It was becoming more and more difficult to push one crisis aside while she concentrated on another. She turned around and searched the cupboard. "I need a cup of tea." She said wearily.

"Massie, you're not waffling about leaving, are you? We did talk about this." Derrick reminded her.

"Okay, I know." She answered weakly.

"I mean it, Massie. You're out of here ─"

She cut him off. "I said okay." Her irritation was loud and clear. "Mind telling me where I'm going?"

"With me."

"Will you stop doing that?" she demanded.

The burst of temper surprised Derrick. He raised an eyebrow as he leaned back against the kitchen table and folded his arms. "Stop doing what?"

"Giving me dumb answers." She muttered. She grabbed the white teakettle from the counter and went to the sink to fill it with water.

It didn't take a trained eye to see that the pressure was getting to her, but the timing couldn't have been worse because Derrick was also feeling like a cranky, caged animal. Now that they were in Westchester, the waiting game began, and God, how he hated that part of his job. He'd rather have a root canal than wait around for something to happen.

Joe shifted uncomfortably in his chair while Derrick followed Massie to the sink. "What the hell does that mean? Dumb answers?"

She bumped into his chest when she turned. Water sloshed out of the mouth of the kettle, splashing in his shirt.

"You never give me a direct answer." She told him.

"Yeah? Like when?"

"Just now as a good example. I asked you where I was going and you answered ─"

He cut her off. "With me."

"That isn't a direct answer, Derrick."

Without a thought as to what she was doing, she grabbed a towel and began to blot the water off his shirt. He snatched it out of her hand and tossed it on the corner.

"I'm not sure where we'll be going." He told her. "When I know, I'll tell you. All right? And by the way," he added, leaning down until they were nose to nose, "that's the only damned time I haven't given you a straight answer."

"No, it isn't." She countered. "I asked you how many agents were in Westchester, and do you remember what your answer was? Enough. Now, what kind of straight answer is that?"

The muscle in his jaw flexed, indicating the price he was paying for holding his temper. "If I knew the exact number, I wouldn't tell you. I don't want you to see them or look for them."

"Why not?" She pushed him out of her way and went to the stove, put the kettle on the front burner and turned it on.

"Because then you'll be staring at them or looking for them every time we go out, and if the unsub's watching you ─ which, by the way, we're pretty damned sure he is ─ then he'll notice you noticing the agents."

"You two fight like an old married couple."

Massie and Derrick turned as one to frown at Joe.

"We weren't fighting." Derrick told him.

"We were simply having a difference of opinion." She insisted. "That's all."

Joe grinned. "Hey, I'm not your kid you're trying to convince. I don't care if you fight or not. The fact is both of you probably need to let off a little steam, and you might as well clear it right now."

Massie and Derrick nodded.

"Nick, about leaving on the first…," Joe began.

"Yeah?"

"Wesson wants her to stay."

"Tough. She's leaving on the first."

"He's gonna pull rank."

"He can try."

"How come you're firm on that date?"

"Because her brothers estimate a couple of thousand people are going to be flooding in here on the second and third. There's a big university reunion going on while the town celebrates the anniversary. I'd like to get her out of here before, but she's got to be in this wedding, and she won't leave."

"I'm telling you, Wesson's determined to keep her here as long as it takes."

"And I'm telling you she's leaving. There's no way in hell I'm letting Massie stay with a crowd that size coming here. How can I protect her?" Shaking his head, he added, "It's not gonna happen."

Joe raised his hand in a conciliatory gesture. "I'm easy with whatever you decide. I just thought I should want you you're in for a fight, that's all. As far as I'm concerned, you're calling the shots." From the look on Derrick's face, Joe was suddenly desperate to change the subject. "Anyone hungry? 'Cause I'm starving." His stomach growled noisily then.

Massie and Derrick laughed. Joe joined in after he was finished blushing. The tension was all gone and forgotten.

"I guess you are." Massie remarked.

Joe scratched his head. "Yeah, well, Feinberg was supposed to bring in groceries, sneaking in through your back door, but man oh man, those two old ladies next door can't keep their eyes still for one second. They constantly look out their window. He hadn't been able to get past them." With a laugh, he added, "Seriously, they ought to work for the FBI."

"They don't know you're still here, or they would have mentioned something to me or Derrick." Massie said.

"I haven't left the house since I first came in." Joe explained. "Those two old bats went out all afternoon. They probably think I left while they were out."

Massie let the water out of the sink, dropped the towel, and went to the refrigerator to check some food for Joe.

"You find anything there? 'Cause I sure didn't. Oh, I found some Pop Tarts in your cupboards. I hope you don't mind." Joe told her.

Closing the refrigerator door, she said, "It's okay. I don't mind. I'll go to the grocery store tomorrow." She promised.

"I was hoping you would say that." Joe admitted with a sheepish grin. "I've got a list made up… if it's alright with you."

"If you're really hungry, we could go out and buy some." Derrick offered.

Massie shook her head. "Everything's close this time of the night."

"It's not even nine o'clock. Nothing's open?" Derrick asked.

Massie nodded. "Closing time's six."

"I, honest to God, don't know how she handles living here." He told Joe. He straddled a chair across the table from the agent and added, "I sure as hell won't last a day here."

"I don't suppose there's a Krispy Kreme donut shop in town." Joe said.

"There isn't." Massie admitted to both agents' dismay.

"If you don't have fresh bagels here, then what do you eat? Hay?" Derrick asked.

Massie glared at him. "Oh, stop whining. You sound like one of those Americans who come all the way to Paris and insist on eating in McDonald's."

"I wasn't whining." Derrick sounded defensive.

"Oh, yes, you were."

"I wasn't."

"You're sounding overly defensive for someone who's saying he's not whining." Massie giggled.

Derrick threw his hands up in exasperation and turned to Joe. "I can't believe her."

Joe's answer was simply to snicker.

The next thirty minutes were spent debating about the national debt, politics and differences between a man and a woman.

"Men are ignorant, stubborn and opinionated. They refuse to admit that women are better than them." Massie said.

"And you're basing that observation on…?" Derrick asked.

From the amused glint he saw in her eyes, he knew what she was about to say. "Oh, I'm basing it on a specific man, alright."

Derrick decided to play along. "Yeah? By any chance, do I know him?"

"You pretty much do actually." She said. "And you know what else?"

"What?"

"He knows his own appeal and uses it to an extent that it's driving people around him nuts. It's like having to endure a terrible disease with science providing no cure to it."

"Are you finished?" Derrick asked calmly.

With her back at him, she shook her head. "Not even a bit. But I guess when I start telling you the list of all the horrid things he is, I'll probably suffer a bad throat ache tomorrow."

"And do you know what I think about women?" Derrick asked.

"What?" She sounded bored.

"I think they're the ones who are ignorant, stubborn, and opinionated. They refuse to admit that men_ do_ outrank them in every way. But you know what else? They try their damndest to hide their attraction from us men when it's obvious that they couldn't keep their hands off of us and they enjoy every freakin' second they drive us around in circles."

She didn't hear him come up to her until she heard him whisper against her ear in a very provocative voice which caused goosebumps on her skin. "Now, Massie, what do you think about what I just said?"

Acting on impulse, she whirled around and came plastered against his chest. She made a mistake when she looked up and met his eyes.

Oh, dear, Lord. Why did he have to be so sexy? A lock of dirty blond hair escaped and fell down his forehead. He made George Clooney, Patrick Dempsey and Brad Pitt lame. And how much did she love those three men.

Before she knew what she was doing, she reached up and brushed the lock back in place.

Derrick was distracted by how wonderful she smelled. And when she touched him, her soft, delicate skin against his was like a gentle caress. A sweet torment.

They were too busy looking at each other and battling their sinful thoughts when Joe interrupted them.

He had been enjoying watching the two. Whew. It didn't take a profiler to see the sparks flying between the two. It was evident and vibrant, alright.

"I hate to interrupt your 'conversation'" He made air quotes before continuing, "but we've got a hell of a storm coming and, Derrick, if you want to disable the video camera, now would definitely be the best time."

A loud clasp of thunder echoed. Massie visibly jumped.

Reluctantly taking his gaze off of her, Derrick murmured to Joe, "Yeah. All right."

Joe began to explain. "I want to take advantage of this opportunity while it lasts. I'm going down to the basement and mess with the circuits. You two wait down here after I've turned the lights off and then flipped them back on. Massie, I'll give you three minutes to go upstairs and do your thing. Remember, we want the unsub to think that you're all taking it in a stride and that you don't give a damn about him and his threats. It's like you're beckoning him. I'll give you three minutes and then I turn the lights off again. Derrick, you dismantle the camera and when you've done that, shout down to me, and I'll turn the lights on again. When the power comes back, the camera won't."

Massie and Derrick nodded.

"Good." Joe stood up. "I'm going to keep the lights flickering for a couple of seconds. I'll yell when you can go up." With that last reminder, he disappeared into the hallway, leaving Massie and Derrick alone.

* * *

**I enjoy the sexual tension between Derrick and Massie. Haha. Their sooo funny.**

**With regards to some of your questions: **

**To xoxoDDLSG - yeah, Claire's 26 but she acts 16. **

**To Jane Doe () - I'm also hoping that Massie would soon get some color on her cheeks. Let's just keep our fingers _tightly_ crossed.**

**To smilez014 - the next chapters will be filled with Massington moments. Promise. :)**

**If you have more questions, just ask. **

**Review?**


	12. Chapter 11

**I own nothing.**

Chapter 11

Steve Brenner was in a cold rage. The bitch had gone too far this time. No one, man or woman, was going to make a fool out of him. It was high time that Massie was taught a lesson, and he was just the man to inflict it. Who the hell did she think she was to humiliate him in front of his associates and friends by bringing another man home?

How could anyone fall in love in the space of one weekend?

Infuriated by the news Sheriff Llyod had just given him, he picked up a chair and hurled it across the room, knocking a desk lamp on the floor. He watched it shatter, and then, still enraged, he slammed his fist into the wall. Fresh paint, splattered in all directions, spraying white mist on his freshly laundered, bloodred Polo shirt. The drywall crumbled under his hand and the skin on his callused knuckles ripped open when he struck the cement block behind the wall. Oblivious to the pain or the mess he just made, he jerked his hand back, then shook himself like a wet dog ridding itself of excess water.

He couldn't think when he was angry and he knew he needed to be clearheaded so that he could figure out his options. He was the master of the game, after all. The bitch didn't understand that yet but she soon would. Yes, indeed.

Sheriff Lloyd was sprawled in a chair behind an empty desk. He appeared to be relaxed but inside he was as nervous and tense as a cornered possum because he knew firsthand what Steve was capable of when he was riled. God help him, he never wanted to see that side of the new associate again.

Lloyd's brand new, silver mustang belt was digging painfully into his gut, but he was afraid to move. He didn't want to do anything that would draw attention to himself until Steve had gotten his temper under control.

Steve clenched and unclenched his fists as he stood by the window, looking out at the square with his back to the sheriff.

Directly across the square, the door opened to Massie's store, and the Winston twins, dressed in bib overalls, came outside. They were working late tonight. Steve watched as they adjusted the seals around the window they just installed in her storefront.

"A damn waste of money." He murmured.

"What'd you say, Steve?"

Steve ignored him. "I take off for a couple of days to get in a little fishing, and what happens? She falls in love with another man. Son of a bitch. If she had only given me a chance… if she had let herself get to know me, she would have fallen in love with _me_. No doubt about that. I can be fucking charming when I want to." He snapped.

Lloyd didn't know if he should try to placate him now or commiserate with him on this latest development. Saying the wrong thing could be worse than saying nothing at all, and so he settled on a low grunt, leaving it to Steve to interpret.

"But she wouldn't give me the time of day." Steve railed. "All I wanted was a chance. I figured I'd give her some Saying the wrong thing could be worse than saying nothing at all, and so he settled on a low grunt, leaving it to Steve to interpret.

"But she wouldn't give me the time of day." Steve railed. "All I wanted was a chance. I figured I'd give her some time to get used to the idea, then maybe send her some more flowers and ask her out again. Did you see the way she ignored me at the fish fry last month? No matter what I did, she wouldn't let me get near her. And those stupid friends of hers ─ Claire, Dylan and Kristen ─ were more of trouble than helpful. She acted like I was a pesky fly. That's how much attention she gave me. People noticed, too. I saw the way they were watching me."

"Now, Steve, it ain't like that. Everyone in Westchester knows you're going to marry Massie. She's got to know it, too. Maybe she's just sowing some wild oaks before she settles down."

"Men sow wild oaks, not women."

"Then maybe she's just playing hard to get." He said. "You're going to be the richest man in the valley and she knows it ─ not that, she needs money. She's rich enough to buy her own island. But you know, women. They could never settle in with what they already have. Always wanting more." He chuckled. "Yeah, that's what she's doing. Playing hard to get."

"I thought she was… better than that."

"Than what?"

"If he's staying there with her, then she's letting him touch her."

Rage was back in his voice but before Lloyd could deflect it, Steve turned around with a mischievous smile. "Where's Lonnie?"

"I don't know. He never tells me where he's going. If he's gotten his lazy ass out of bed, then he's probably at the lake, fishing. Why do you want to know?"

It was time for the lesson. Massie was going to learn he wouldn't put up with any competition.

"Never you mind. Just go find him and send him to me." Steve ordered.

The sheriff shoved his chair back and stood. "But what should I tell him?"

Steve's smile widened before he turned his back at Lloyd. "Tell him I've got a job for him."

***

Massie served herself tea and sat on the chair Joe just occupied. Derrick was pacing back and forth in front of her.

She was the first one to break the awkward silence. "I'm sorry." She blurted.

"About what?"

"About what I said."

He didn't get the chance to answer her because the lights started to flicker twice then went completely out. It was suddenly pitch black in the kitchen.

"Don't get spooked." His voice was soothing whisper in the darkness.

"I won't." She assured him.

A flash of lightning lit the room for the briefest second and Massie half-expected a gray face looming over her. She was getting spooked, sitting in the middle of the room the unsub had made himself at home. Oh, how she wished she could just jump in the car and drive away. Why, oh, why did she come back?

Derrick's voice eased her budding panic. "Don't worry."

Massie's attention centered on him. "What did you say?"

"Don't worry." He repeated. "I've been called many other names before. Most of them were more colorful and creative words, actually. And I took them all as a compliment."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. I'm telling the truth."

"Exactly what other names have you been called?" She asked, curious.

"Oh, you know, the usual. Bastard, asshole, son of a bitch, devil with a gun… usual names a _great_ FBI agent gets from people you're about to arrest." He sounded like he was gloating.

She knew what he was trying to do. He sensed the tension in her and tried to ease them away.

Massie laughed. "Seriously, Derrick, your arrogance will someday cause your death."

"And about what I said to you…" Derrick began.

"Hmm?"

Before he could answer, the lights came back and they heard Joe shout, "Let's do it."

Derrick took Massie's hand and gently pulled her out of the chair. He didn't let go of her as they went through the house and up the stairs.

To get her mind off of the fact that the unsub will be watching her, she said to Derrick as nonchalant as she could, "You were saying something about what you said to me."

Derrick glanced at her and briefly looked puzzled. When he understood what she was saying, he smiled. "Yeah. I'm not taking them back." He said.

She gaped at him, appalled. "But-but-but I _apologized_ to you. And you're not feeling the least bit remorseful of what you said?"

Derrick pursed his lips to contain his laughter. They were nearing her bedroom now. "No."

She continued to gape at him until they've reached her bedroom. He opened the door and walked inside with her trailing behind.

"Seriously?" She sounded so astonished.

His plan was effective. He triumphantly took her mind off of the unsub.

He stared down at her and tweaked her nose. "Nope."

For the next remaining minutes, they argued. Again. About how unnerving he was. He'd teased, laughed at, and taunted her while she'd retaliated by pinching him, stomping on his foot, and glaring at him. For the next remaining minutes, they have forgotten about the unsub watching them.

From the darkened living room across town, the Peeping Tom watched. From how his darling looked at the mule, he knew she was in love with him. His roar of rage echoed through the house. Shaking, he picked up a lamp, ripped it from the socket, and hurled it at the stucco wall.

Retribution was at hand.

***

As soon as the lights had gone out, Derrick and Massie fell silent. He abruptly walked away from the bed where he and Massie had been sitting and arguing to dismantle the camera.

Massie barely paid attention to Derrick. She was relieved. She _felt _relieved. For a minute there, she almost thought her life was back to normal ─ that there wasn't a madman running after her, that almost half of the FBI wasn't swarming around town and her house. Almost.

She pretended she didn't notice him leave and slumped back against the bed with a groan. "Imbecile." She muttered and jumped back on her feet. She suddenly wanted a shower. A hot shower. She remembered Derrick's outrageous comment about her handing her the soap and her thoughts took over then. Before she could muster up more of her unholy fantasies, she shook her head and all but ran to the bathroom and closed the door behind her.

She hurriedly stripped out of her clothes and in her haste, she tripped over her shoe. Thankfully, she grabbed the end of the tub before she could fall facedown on the ground.

She blamed Derrick Harrington and his dangerously gorgeous looks for her sudden klutziness. She got in the shower and sighed in content when the hot water hit her skin hard. She momentarily forgot about company downstairs therefore she didn't bother to shut the mirror.

Downstairs, Derrick was talking with Joe. "Get some sleep, Joe. You look like you need it."

Joe chuckled. "Yeah, as if that's possible when you're in the same house with a beautiful woman."

Derrick punched him on the shoulder, chuckling, too. "Yeah, well, make sure you sleep with your hands and your feet cuffed."

Derrick left Joe cleaning his equipment and went up the stairs.

Speaking of Massie, he ought to check whether she was doing alright or not. It will be just a quick peek and then he'll leave. Ah, hell. He was making excuses for himself. He knew what he wanted was to see her and those long legs again. Ah, geez! He was turning into his brother, Zachary, who was in high school and the youngest in the family. Lately, Zack couldn't come up with a sentence that didn't include the words "sex", "hot", and "girls" in it.

He was still grumbling to himself when he entered her bedroom and heard the water running from the bathroom.

"Massie?" He called at the same time he knocked twice on the door.

Since he didn't hear any answer, he unclasped his gun from his holster and pushed the door open, gun at the ready.

He froze. He wasn't prepared for what was waiting for him.

She had her bareback at him. She was angling her neck to the side as the water hit her. Water trickled down from her shoulders to her long shapely legs.

She must've sensed his presence because she froze and turned her head.

Not giving her time to cover or shout, he closed the door and walked steadily towards the room beside hers. By the time he got inside, closed the door and sat at the edge of the bed, he was shaking.

Dear, God, he wanted to go to hell.

***

Massie didn't know how long she stood there in the shower, staring at the door.

Derrick had seen her naked. He'd _actually_ seen her naked. Oh, dear, how could she face him tomorrow?

She finished up showering, her mind a thousand miles away, and got dressed in a short boxers and a rugby shirt that almost reached her knees. She got under the covers and spent the next two hours, repeating the embarrassing scene in her mind over and over and over again.

By the time her eyes started to droop, she came up with a plan.

Tomorrow morning, she was going to come up to Derrick Harrington, look him in the eyes and give him hell.

Plan secured, confidence restored, she fell asleep with a smug smile on her face.

**About your reviews…**

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	13. Chapter 12

**Yay! Over 100 reviews. Yay! :) **

**On a random note, my birthday's on 18! Just 4 days to go and I'll be fifteen! Whoopie! :D**

**I own nothing. **

Chapter 13

She couldn't look at him in the eye the following morning.

Massie woke up at daybreak and dressed in her jogging clothes ─ a snug-fitting, blue-and-white striped spandex top that didn't quite cover her belly button, blue spandex shorts, socks, and her comfortable but worn-looking white Reeboks. After securing her hair in a ponytail, she went into the bedroom to begin her stretching exercise.

Derrick came into the bedroom as she was coming out of the bathroom. He took one look at her outfit and his heart skipped a beat. Every curve of her body was evident. He remembered seeing her naked. One thought led to another. Mustering some composure, he grumbled, "Jeez, Massie, do your brothers know you wear stuff like that?"

She began her waist bends and didn't look at him when she answered, "There's nothing wrong with my clothes. I'm not going to church. I'm going running."

"Maybe you ought to put a big T-shirt over…"

"Over what?"

"Your chest."

The shirt wasn't going to cover her amazing long legs. He was having trouble taking his eyes off them. "And long pants." He muttered. "This is a small town. You're going to shock folks."

"No, I won't." She assured him. "They're used to see me run."

He didn't like it, not one little bit, but who the hell was he to complain? If she wanted to dress like a… runner… ah, hell, what was the matter with him? He had no business telling her what to wear. Even if they were in a relationship ─ which they weren't, he quickly qualified ─ he still wouldn't have the right to tell her how to dress.

Derrick had already put on his running clothes ─ a faded, navy blue T-shirt, gym shorts, white socks, and his used-to-be-white running shoes. While she stretched her legs, he slipped his gun into the holster at his hip and pulled the T-shirt down to cover it. Then he picked up a small earpiece and tucked it in his right ear. Moving in front of the mirror above her dresser, he pinned a circular disc to his neck band just above his clavicle.

She was tying one of her shoelaces when she asked, "What's the pin for?"

"It's a microphone." He answered. "So no dirty talking today. Wesson will hear whatever I say, and just for the record, Julius, I still think this is a badass idea."

The voice inside his ear spoke back. "Duly noted, Agent Harrington, and it's sir to you, not Julius."

Derrick mouthed the word "jackass" to himself and then turned to Massie, "You ready?"

"Yes." She answered and for the first time since he'd come into the bedroom, she looked into his eyes.

"I wondered how long that was gonna take."

She didn't bother to pretend to misunderstand. "You noticed?"

"Now you're blushing."

"No, I am not." Shrugging to cover the embarrassment, her voice dropped into a low whisper so that Wesson wouldn't hopefully hear her. "I don't think we need to talk about what happened…"

"No, we don't need to talk about it." He agreed. Then he grinned an adorable lopsided grin and added, "But I'll bet I'll be thinking about it all day long."

He was staring at her mouth so she stared at the floor.

"Let's go." He said.

Nodding, she brushed past him. On the way downstairs, he said, "I want you to stay directly in front of me and don't worry. I'll slow down to keep pace with you."

She laughed. "You'll slow down? I don't think so."

"I've been running since I joined the FBI. We agents have to keep in top shape." He told her.

"Uh-huh." She agreed. "Then how come you told me you weren't a runner?"

"No, I didn't say that. I said I hated to run."

"You said it's bad for the knees and that you were going to complain the entire time."

"It _is _bad for the knees and I _do _complain."

"And how many miles do you run every morning?"

"About a hundred miles, give or take."

She chuckled. "Is that right?"

Joe was standing in front of the living room window, looking outside through the crack in the drawn drapes.

"Derrick, you better have a look at this. We've got a situation here. You might want to reconsider running today."

Massie beat him to the window. She peeked out and then said, "It's alright. It's just the boys waiting for me. We run together every morning."

Derrick looked over her head and saw seven young men standing on the path outside Massie's house. There were two more jogging in place a foot away.

"Who are they and why the hell didn't you tell me about this?" He sounded angry.

"Relax. They're just the high school track team. They wanted to keep in shape so they asked me to accompany them every morning. They wanted to be fit when school opens. And they don't really run with me, at least not around the lake. They all peter out by the time I hit the path. Then they wait for to come back and…"

"And?" He demanded. Before she could reply, he muttered, "Wesson, are you getting this?"

"Loud and clear," came the staticky reply.

"And what?" Derrick asked Massie again. "They wait for you to come back around the lake then what?"

"And they jog home with me. That's all."

Derrick glanced out again and noticed another boy running down the street to join his friends.

"Oh, yeah, they're serious runners, alright." He remarked sarcastically. "Especially the kid eating the donut. He's definitely headed for the Olympics."

"Yeah, I don't believe those boys dragged themselves from bed and came here to run. I'm pretty sure running's the last thing in their minds."

"Then what did get them out of bed so early?" She asked, exasperated.

Derrick answered. "Hormones, Massie. Raging teenage hormones."

"Oh, for heaven's sake. At this time of the day? Boys have other things in their minds besides sex."

"No, they don't." Derrick argued.

She looked at Joe who sheepishly nodded. "They really don't." He agreed with Derrick.

Derrick jerked his thumb toward the window. "At this age, I didn't think about anything else aside from sex."

Joe nodded. "I'd have to agree with Derrick again." He said. "It's all I ever thought about. Mostly I thought about how to get it, and when I finally did get it, I thought of how to get it again."

She didn't know whether to laugh or get angry at them. The conversation was ludicrous. "You're saying that every second of waking hour that's what you both were thinking while you were teenagers?"

"Pretty much." Derrick answered. "So we know what they're after. Maybe I ought to go outside and have a little chat with them."

"Don't you dare."

Derrick came up with a better idea. He'd intimidate them. He pulled his shirt over his gun and tucked the material behind it so that the weapon was clearly visible.

Joe watched him. "That ought to discourage them."

As Derrick was opening the front door for Massie, he murmured, "Maybe I get to shoot a couple of them."

Massie rolled her eyes as she went past him, ignoring his scowl. Waving at her entourage, she jogged towards them and introduced Derrick to the boys. She told them he was a close family friend, staying with her for a couple of days. The kids all noticed Derrick's gun, of course, before returning their full attention to Massie's considerable assets. They didn't even look at him when Massie explained that he was FBI.

It all came down between spandex versus loaded weapon, and spandex won.

Derrick stayed right behind her as she ran. The boys fell into step around the two of them, taking turns trying to engage Massie in conversation.

Donut boy was the first on the fade. Three others quickly followed him. Massie gradually picked up the pace, her long legs practically eating up the pavemwhat they're after. Maybe I ought to go outside and have a little chat with them."

"Don't you dare."

Derrick came up with a better idea. He'd intimidate them. He pulled his shirt over his gun and tucked the material behind it so that the weapon was clearly visible.

Joe watched him. "That ought to discourage them."

As Derrick was opening the front door for Massie, he murmured, "Maybe I get to shoot a couple of them."

Massie rolled her eyes as she went past him, ignoring his scowl. Waving at her entourage, she jogged towards them and introduced Derrick to the boys. She told them he was a close family friend, staying with her for a couple of days. The kids all noticed Derrick's gun, of course, before returning their full attention to Massie's considerable assets. They didn't even look at him when Massie explained that he was FBI.

It all came down between spandex versus loaded weapon, and spandex won.

Derrick stayed right behind her as she ran. The boys fell into step around the two of them, taking turns trying to engage Massie in conversation.

Donut boy was the first on the fade. Three others quickly followed him. Massie gradually picked up the pace, her long legs practically eating up the pavement as she gracefully glided forward. She'd been right about her fan club's endurance. By the time they've reached the lake, the last two boys doubled over and were panting for breath. Derrick heard one of them gag and got an inordinate pleasure from the sound.

Massie loved this time of the day. It was so peaceful and quiet and lovely. For an hour she forced herself to forget about everything and concentrate only on the path. As she rounded the bend around the blue lake, the entrance to the nature preserve was on her right.

She passed the abbot and had the feeling that Agent Wesson was watching her but she couldn't see him because the blinds were drawn.

Sweat trickled down the back of her neck and between her breasts by the time she'd made a complete circle around the lake. She slowed down, stopped, doubled over and took long deep breaths. She could hear Derrick panting behind her.

Standing there, they were an easy target. He did a quick survey of the dense forest and the overgrown bushes around them, and moved closer to her. Sweat covered her shirt. With the back of his arm, he wiped his forehead. "Let's get out of here. Do we walk or run home?"

"We jog."

The boys were waiting at the park entrance. Grinning like idiots, they once again fell into step around Derrick and Massie.

"Wimps." Derrick muttered as Massie waved goodbye to the boys and sprinted up the front walk.

Once the door was shut behind them, Derrick said, "Damn. It's humid out there."

"There were other agents keeping sight of you while you were in the park." Joe said as Massie passed him on her way to get some bottled water. "You were both safe."

Massie walked to the living room, tossed Derrick a bottle of Evian, and opened her own. She took a big drink and headed for the stairs."I'm going to take a shower."

"Wait." Derrick said as he went up the stairs ahead of her. He looked in the bathroom to make sure there weren't any surprises waiting.

He was being overly cautious and she was thankful for it.

"All clear." He announced.

"You could shower in the other bathroom down the hall." She suggested.

"I'll wait." He said.

Derrick was sitting on the bed, talking on the phone, when she came out of the bathroom fifteen minutes later. Her hair was dripping down her back, and she was wearing a short cotton robe that had seen better days. He took one look at her and promptly lost his train of thought. He knew she was naked underneath that thin material and he had to force himself to turn away so he could concentrate on his conversation with his brother, Theo, who worked for the Justice Department and was the oldest in their family

"Look, Theo, we'll talk about this when I get back to Boston, alright?" Derrick hung up the phone and slowly turned his head to get a glimpse of Massie out of the corner of his eye. He watched her open the dresser drawer and take out two little wisps of lace. Immediately, his mind went into a marathon about her wearing them.

Get a grip, he told himself. She was off-limits, and he had no business fantasizing about her. What the hell kind of a friend was he to lust after Spencer's sister?

Berating himself was doing no good. He wanted her. Simple as that. There, he finally admitted the obvious. Now what was he going to do? Nothing, he decided. Not a damned thing. Even if she weren't his best friend's sister, he wouldn't get in a relationship with her. A relationship between them was impossible. It would never work out and she'd end up hating him. She wanted what she had never had ─ a family and kids, lots of kids ─ and he didn't want any of that. He'd seen too much to ever let himself feel that vulnerable. Even though he came from a family of eight, he was still a loner and that's the way he liked it.

Maybe Morganstern was right. Maybe Derrick was too close and personal for this assignment. But of course his superior was referring to his friendship with Spencer. What would Pete say if he told her that he was lusting after his friend's sister? Derrick knew the answer. Pete would have his hide.

The phone rang again. Derrick listened to it for a minute, then said, "Yeah, yeah. Alright. See you tonight."

Massie was standing in the closet doorway, shifting from bare foot to bare foot as she searched through the clothes in her big closet.

When Derrick hung up, she said, "Was that Pete?"

"What? Oh, yeah. That was Pete."

"What did he say?"

"Just checking up. He's asking if you're okay." He answered. "Massie, for the love of God, put on some clothes."

She kept sorting through her clothes when she answered, "Yes, as soon as I get a little privacy."

He could hear the blush in her voice. "Okay, okay." He said, feeling like an idiot. Heading for her shower, he added, "Don't leave the bedroom until I'm dressed and keep the door locked."

"Joe's downstairs."

"Yeah, well, I still want you to wait for me." His voice didn't leave room for argument.

She ran after him. He was peeling his T-shirt off as she reached behind him to grab her hair dryer and brush from the counter behind the sink. Her hand accidentally rubbed against the base of his spine, and he reacted as she burned him with her curling iron. He flinched.

"Sorry." She stammered.

He sighed and as he tossed the T-shirt into the sink. "I made you feel awkward again, didn't I?"

They were standing toe to toe, facing each other. She clutched the robe to her chest with one hand and gripped the hair dryer and brushed with the other.

"Is Mr. Wesson listening?" she asked.

He shook his head. "The pin's on the dresser with the earpiece."

"I don't want it to be awkward but it's just that… you saw me naked. I know I should've closed the mirror but…"

"What?"

She shrugged. "It just made things awkward. That's all."

"I'm sorry about that. You didn't answer so I thought something was wrong. I did knock." He said with a nod. "Twice, in fact."

"Let's just get pass it." He added after a few seconds.

She'd been staring at his toes until he said that. Her eyes flew to his.

"I know one way." He said.

The sparkle in his eyes should've been a warning. "How?" she whispered.

He smiled. "Take a shower with me. That ought to get you past your shyness."

She was so shocked by the suggestion, she laughed which was exactly what he wanted her to do. The tension vanished. His grin was comical.

"You've got that leer down perfectly." She told him as she turned around and left the bathroom.

Because the mirror was still clouded with steam and the bathroom was sweltering, Derrick told her to leave the door open. She waited until she heard the shower running then hurried to get dressed and dry her hair. She put on her white pleated knee-high skirt and a peach silk blouse. Then she found her white wooden platform wedges.

Derrick made bed while she brushed her hair. The coverlet was all lopsided when he finished but she didn't criticize his effort.

He wore jeans and a white polo shirt. He clipped the leather holster to his belt. Then he pinned the red disc back on, added the earpiece, and shoved his wallet in his back pocket.

"Okay, so what's the schedule for today?" He asked after he gave her a quick once-over.

"Some breakfast first because I'm starving, then the grocery store for Joe. After that, I want to check on my store to see if they've started on the floors yet. If they haven't, I'll work there all afternoon."

"Then after?" He prodded as he slipped on a pair of leather shoes.

"I've got to pick up my bridesmaid dress." She said. "And I should spend an hour or two at the abbey to help with the cleaning of the attic."

"Alright. Let's get started." He took Massie's hand and led her downstairs.

Derrick was closing the front door behind them when Massie heard a familiar, disgustingly sweet voice call, "Massie! Massie, sweetie, yoo-hoo!"

Massie already knew who it was even before she turned around. From that familiar and disgustingly sweet voice, she knew who it was.

And glancing at Derrick, Massie already knew what that person was after.

As Derrick said, raging hormones. But in this case, it wasn't teenage hormones.

Whoremones were more like it.

**Review?**


	14. Chapter 13

**Yeah! Yeah! It's mah birthday yesterday! Mah mah mah birthday! For the reviews and your greetings, thank you so so much! :))**

**So so so sorry for the late update. I was away for five days with my family. But I'm back. That's what's important. Anyway, I have a lot of catching up to do. I've got to write the next three chapters of Sweet Revenge! I'm uber excited! :DD**

**Oh, and, if you haven't noticed, I made an error in the previous chapter. Instead of Chapter 12, I wrote Chapter 13. Just clarifying.**

**I own nothing.**

Chapter 13

Alicia Rivera was jogging towards Massie's front lawn from across the street. She was wearing a short red spandex shorts and a matching tight red sports bra that squeezed her big boobs. She was waving frantically at them.

But Massie wasn't paying her any attention. She was staring at Derrick to judge his reaction towards Alicia. And not to her surprise, he was quite captivated by the town's vixen. Not just quite. He was completely taken. And she was furious with him.

She didn't understand why she felt that way but she knew that if he would start ogling, she'd grab his gun and shoot his eyes.

She bottled up her frustration and forced a smile for Alicia. "Hello, Alicia. Have you been running?"

"Yeah, I have." She lied and Massie knew that. Alicia grinned at her briefly before turning her full attention to Derrick. "I'm Alicia Rivera. Are you new in town?"

"I'm Derrick Harrington, ma'am. And yes, I'm new here." Derrick replied courteously.

They shook hands while looking at each other in the eyes. It was gross.

"Are you and Massie together?" She asked bluntly.

"Yes." Massie answered abruptly.

"No." Derrick said the same time.

He and Alicia turned to look at her. Derrick, amused. Alicia, mad with jealousy.

Realizing what she said, Massie blushed and stammered out her explanation. "I mean, no. Derrick's Spencer's best friend. He's practically family." She shrugged as if she didn't care if they'd hook up or what.

Alicia instantly beamed. "Good." She said and turned back to Derrick. "Will you be coming to our picnic party tomorrow night?" She batted her eyelashes at him.

Derrick nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

Alicia turned a frustrating crimson. "Call me Alicia."

Derrick smiled. "Yes, Alicia. I will be coming to the picnic tomorrow night." Before she could speak, he added, "And no, I won't be available tomorrow or any other time."

Alicia's face visibly fell. "Oh. Are you busy with something?" she prodded.

"Yes." He said.

She looked from him to Massie and back again. "Well, if you feel the need to talk to someone, just look for me. I'm everywhere." She winked at him before leaving without saying good-bye to Massie.

Massie rolled her eyes heavenward and got in the car at the same time Derrick did. None of them said a word as they spent the morning doing errands.

It was all so ordinary but there was no ordinary thing in their situation. She was constantly looking over her shoulder even when they were in the grocery, picking out supplies for Joe. Massie was stopped by a friend or a neighbor, and, each time, she introduced Derrick as a close _family _friend.

He put on quite a show. He was attentive, understanding and warm to the people they came across with.

Derrick finally broke the uncomfortable silence when she went to get potato chips while he pushed the half-filled cart. "You still won't talk to me, will you?"

She was about to grab a bag of Lays when he spoke. Her hand froze midway. "You noticed, huh?"

He smiled. "I'm an FBI agent, hon. I'm paid to notice." He sounded cocky.

She reacted like they were in church and he said a crude word. She covered his mouth with her hands. "Don't call me hon, someone might hear you." She whispered harshly.

A middle-aged woman was passing by the aisle, dragging her ten-year-old child when she heard Derrick. She stared at the couple, waved at Massie, pointed Derrick and gave her a thumbs-up.

"Oh, Lydia, we're not together!" Massie called to Lydia Preston but was too late since the woman had already walked away. "Stop smirking." She snapped at Derrick when she removed her hand from his mouth. "One word and I'll make you pay." She threatened.

Massie turned her back at him and walked away, leaving him to tag behind her.

Derrick drove through McDonald's to get brunch and headed home again. He turned on the radio, and they listened to the DJ croon about a love lost and found again.

Once they've neared the house, her frustration on Derrick was nothing but forgotten. She was eager for him to see her store. She helped him carry the groceries inside, and left them in the hall for Joe toput away. Then they got back in the car again. Since they were going up to the abbey after they've gone to her store, he decided to drive to the square.

He stopped at the fountain so he could see all the buildings ahead of him. None of them were historical treasure by any means, but the old structures were charming. Most of the facades needed work, but nothing major.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Massie asked and stared ahead.

Her voice was so full of warmth that made Derrick smile.

"Yes, it is." He agreed.

Massie turned to him and beamed.

His heart skipped a beat. This was the only time he noticed the adorable dimple on her cheek whenever she smiled. Derrick thought he'd died, gone to heaven and was staring at an angel's face. Oh, God, he needed therapy, he thought at the same time his gaze dropped to her full, luscious lips.

The way he was looking at her made her feel self-conscious. He was gazing at her lips. She instinctively wet them with her tongue.

They didn't know what happened but they suddenly found themselves leaning forward to each other. They're lips were less than an inch away from each other when Derrick realized what they were about to do. Almost too quickly, he turned his head away and faced the road before him. "That didn't happen." He told her. His voice was too surly for him but he didn't bother to soften his comment.

Massie was blushing from head to toe. "Yes. That didn't happen." She pretended she approved but deep inside she was crying.

What the hell did 'that didn't happen' mean? Did he realize that she was a small-town girl and that he had better choices waiting for him in Boston? Without money, she decided, she was nothing. And knowing Derrick, he wasn't after money. Then, if her money couldn't impress him, nothing could. She wasn't beautiful like Alicia Rivera. She knew she had pretty eyes, people told her that. But that's all. She didn't have Claire's flawless skin or Alicia's soft hair and big bosoms. She couldn't offer him anything. Except a cup of tea.

She didn't blame him, though. She accepted the fact that she wasn't his type. Derrick probably had a movie-star girlfriend waiting for him. Girlfriends, no doubt.

"What are you thinking?"

The question jarred her so she blurted out the first thing that came into her mind. "Movies." She lied. "I was thinking about movies."

He didn't buy it. But he decided to play along. "Oh? What about them?"

"Did I mention to you that I have a closet full of DVDs at home?" she asked. "We should watch them sometime. I have a wide range of variations. From romance to thrillers, I've got it all. Although, it would take us half a day to sort through the closet. I haven't opened it for weeks. They're probably covered with dust. I should start sorting them out tonight so that it would be easier for us to choose. What do you think? Oh, and did I mention I also have Star Wars?" _Oh, and did I mention that I'm a complete idiot, too?_ She added in her mind.

Derrick looked astonished when she started babbling. He knew babbling was her way to cover a lie so he knew she was lying. But he didn't press it. "That would be great. I'll help you with the sorting."

"There's my store at the corner." Massie said when she spotted the lovely building.

As it turned out, she couldn't show off her store, after all. The third coat of polyurethane had just been applied to the floor. Since the windows were coated, Derrick couldn't look through them to see the lovely marble countertop. He would have to wait until tomorrow for the coat to dry.

Derrick turned the car around the street and drove towards the abbey.

***

One man's trash could become another man's treasure.

That was Massie's hope, anyway, as she sorted through a dozen mildew-infested boxes of old, moth-eaten linens and broken knickknacks someone had stored in the attic fifty years ago. By the time she finished with her share of cleaning, her white skirt was gray and she was sneezing every other second from the moldy cardboard. Unfortunately, she didn't find a priceless van Gogh or Degas painting tucked in with the trash. In fact, she didn't find anything she didn't consider old junk.

Derrick helped her haul the trash down four flights of steps on their way to the car.

"Where to next?" He asked as they slid inside the car.

"Can we drop by the seamstress to pick up my bridesmaid dress?" she asked.

"Alright." Derrick started the car and pulled away from the abbey's driveway.

Massie gave him the direction to Merri-Lee Marvil's dress shop which was also in the town square and was just a few blocks from her store.

Seams and Scissors Dress Shop was an overly feminine place and Derrick was sure as he and Massie went inside that this was the kind of place guys referred to as purgatory. The place was small and had hot-pink-painted walls and purple tiles. There were pictures of celebrity models hung in every corner and flowers on every table. A baby pink couch and a small glass coffee table occupied one corner while the rest of the place was crammed with meticulously organized clothes rack, and tables filled with multi-colored cloths.

Massie told the old woman behind the counter, Viola, that she was going to pick up her bridesmaid dress and watched as the woman disappeared behind the back room to fetch her dress. While she waited, Massie leaned back against the counter, enjoying Derrick's discomfort. The man was awkwardly standing a few feet from her, taking it all in.

Massie decided to tease him. "Don't you think the place looks lovely?"

Derrick turned her head at her. "Making fun of one's discomfort is not funny, Massie." He said to her.

She feigned an innocent look and gasped. "Whatever are you talking about, Derrick?"

He scowled at her. "Oh, so, that's how you want to play it." He suddenly grinned the perverted grin of his and mischief was written all over his drop-dead gorgeous face. "Then, you'll probably find it funny when I tell the good old folks of Westchester how we've spent our nights together and you're a devil temptress in bed."

Massie was about to run to him and grab his neck when she heard a gasp behind her. She turned around and felt her cheeks burn in chagrin.

Standing on the small hallway behind the counter were withered Viola and tall and skinny but ever-so-glowing Merri-Lee Marvil ─ her friend, Dylan's mother ─, holding Massie's bridesmaid dress at her side. From Viola's shocked expression and Merri-Lee's astonished look, Massie knew they heard what Derrick said.

After recovering from the totally awkward moment, Massie made hasty introductions and all but grabbed her Velcro-wrapped dress from Merri-Lee's arms before she pulled Derrick out of the store. They were about to cross the street to get to Derrick's car when Merri-Lee pounded on the window and beckoning Massie forward with her hand.

Massie paused to give Derrick a good you'll-pay-for-this-later glare before she sauntered back to Merri-Lee's store.

Derrick stared at Massie while Merri-Lee talked to her. He didn't know what they were discussing, but whatever the topic was, it embarrassed Massie. Her face turned to the same colors of the dress shop's walls and she kept shaking her head.

As Massie was leaving the store, Merri-Lee called out loud enough for the whole street to hear, "Remember what I said, Massie. I'll keep my fingers crossed for you."

Clearly mortified, Massie hurried away.

Derrick caught up with her. "What was that all about?"

"Nothing important."

"She's gonna keep her fingers crossed for you?"

"It's nothing, really."

"Come on, Massie. Tell me."

His hilarious pout stopped her from trying to outrun him. "Fine. I'll tell you. And it's simply because that pout of yours scares the beejesus out of me." She pointed her finger at him before continuing. "The little conference we had in the store was all about you and me. Us. Apparently, that little lie your agents told Sheriff Lloyd had made the local headlines. And after Lydia heard you calling me hon only confirms it. I doubt this news about our 'night activities' would take two hours before everyone hears about it. Hell, we'll probably end up in the local news. So she thinks I'm gonna botch this one up again. Those were her words not mine. You do realize that since no one will listen to me and therefore they'll continue assuming we're a couple, when this is all over and you'll be returning to Boston, they'll think I screwed up again. This isn't funny, Derrick, so you can stop grinning."

He wasn't at all sympathetic. Laughing, he said, "You've got a real strange reputation here, don't you? Exactly what is it you do to the men who try to get close to you?"

"Nothing." She cried out. "I don't do anything. I'm just… discriminating. There's a small group of women in town who have nothing better to do than gossip, and if one of them happens to see me talking to an available man, she assumes all sorts of things that aren't true. Before I know what's happened, that nosy editor I told you about, Olivia Ryan, is printing it in the local paper. It's ridiculous." She added. "When I'm not seen socializing with the same man, everyone assumes I've gone and botched it again."

"I thought you were bluffing when you told me. She actually prints stuff like that on the paper?"

"She runs the society page." She explained. "It's all gossip and rubbish. There isn't a whole lot going on here and so she…"

"Embellishes?" He finished her sentence for her.

"Oh, God, speaking of the devil." She whispered. "Let's get out of here. Move it, Derrick. She's spotted us."

Olivia Ryan caught sight of them a block away and came running. Long, curly platinum hair dwarfed her already small features, and huge pendulum earrings dangled from her lobes and flapped madly to and fro with each step. She carried a leopard-print canvas bag the size of a suitcase looped over her shoulder, and, as she ran, she tilted to the side, like a drunk who couldn't walk a straight line.

She was sprinting now to intercept them, her fuchsia-colored four-inched heels clipping along the sidewalks. The sound was like teeth chattering.

"Man, can she move." He remarked.

As she bore down on them, Derrick couldn't help but notice her eyebrows, or rather the lack of thereof. Olivia had plucked hers out and had drawn a pencil line above her deep set eyes.

Thanks to Derrick's lack of cooperation in running for cover, Massie was stuck.

"I thought FBI agents were supposed to be fast." She muttered as she patiently waited to introduce him to the woman she secretly called Gazette Gorilla.

Derrick was disgustingly charming and that only encouraged Olivia to be pushier than ever. She demanded an on-the-spot interview. Whipping her eight-by-ten notebook from her bag, she wanted to know all the details on how they met.

In fifteen seconds, Derrick knew two things about the woman. One, she detested Massie. Olivia barely disguised her loathing towards the slowly erupting volcano who had now squeezed herself against Derrick's side. Two, she wanted him. It wasn't an arrogant assumption. Nor a shrewd observation. Hell, the way she was looking at him while she constantly moistened her lips with her tongue, darting in and out, made it apparent. Disgustingly so.

The knot in Massie's stomach twisted and twisted and twisted as Olivia's question became too personal. She wanted to grab her throat and break her neck.

"Are you currently living as man and wife?" She asked bluntly.

"No and that's none of your damned business, Olivia." Massie snarled.

"Do you own that Ford Explorer over there?"

"Nor that one."

The obnoxious woman ignored her. "Everyone in town knows you work for the FBI. Why, I must have gotten twelve phone calls about you already. It's true." She added when he looked skeptical. "It's the gun, you see. People notice it. They're just too shy to ask you, though."

"So they whisper behind his back." Massie stated angrily.

Olivia ignored her once again. "FBI agents don't make much money, do they?"

"Are you asking me if I own the Ford Explorer?" Derrick wondered.

"I wasn't going to be that forward. But you must admit, a handsome FBI agent arrives in town, wearing designer clothes, driving the latest Ford Explored model which is just one of your four cars back at your sleek bachelor pad at Boston, is a head-turner." She openly winked at him.

Massie was disgusted by Olivia's behavior. The goddamn woman was flirting ─ blatantly flirting with Derrick who did not seem offended but vastly amused. Massie wanted to kick his gut.

"And how do you know all of that?" Massie asked.

Gorilla didn't even spare her a glance when she answered, "I've done my research." She snapped.

Massie was seething and Derrick knew it because she had unconsciously took hold of his hand and was gripping it in what seemed like a death grip. He squeezed her hand before answering Olivia's question. "I live a comfortable life. Family trust."

"Ah. Then, you're rich?" Olivia prompted. "Where are you from, Derrick? You don't mind me calling you Derrick, do you?"

"For heaven's sake, Olivia. It's none of your ─" Massie began to say.

Derrick placed his other hand on Massie's shoulder and said sweetly, "Now, darling, don't get all bent out of shape. Olivia's just curious."

"Yes," Olivia agreed. "And while you answer my question, answer this one, too. I just heard you call her 'darling'? Is it true then? What our town folks say that you and Massie are together and that you're planning on getting married?"

"No, I don't mind you calling me Derrick. I live in Boston. I was raised in Nathan's Bay. And about Massie and me, well, let's just see where this romance goes." He winked at Olivia before turning to Massie with a quiet smirk which Olivia missed since she was preoccupied with the notebook she was carrying.

Olivia looked at Massie and Derrick with a pensive look on her overly made up face. She closed her notebook and stuffed it in her bag. Then she turned her full, patronizing attention on Massie.

"Honestly, looking at the two of you," she began and clicked her tongue, "there's something, alright. I want to believe this thing is the real one, but, basing on your record, Maysee, I have my doubts. The whole town has its eyes on the two of you. I certainly don't want to be forced to print yet another retraction. I just hate doing that. People believe what I print in my column is true, so you can understand my concern."

"No one's telling you to print an embellished article, Olivia." Massie growled.

Olivia narrowed her eyes at her. "Then I suggest that you tell me the truth."

"I _am _telling you the truth." Massie was in the verge of shouting. "Derrick and I are _merely _friends. We're not intimate or whatever the hell you and the other people in town conjure in your crazy minds."

Fury and loathing were visible in Olivia's eyes. "If you're 'merely friends'," she paused to make exaggerated air quotes, "then tell me this. You've never brought any man to your home before and allowed them to sleep in the same house you're in. Except your failed relationships which I perfectly recall were intimate relationships considering that I had to print retractions after you botched them. But you and Derrick are sleeping in the same house, going to places together and are constantly seen holding hands, embracing and exchanging endearments. And I don't simply mean friendly, brotherly holding hands and embracing. Do you do that to all of your friends, Maysee?"

Massie had already stepped forward to take a swing at Olivia when Derrick restrained her by increasing his grip on her wrist.

She was shaking in fury and she made no effort to control her temper. Derrick wasn't sure if she realized that. He leaned down close to her ear. "Calm down. Let me handle this. Go wait or me inside the car." Derrick whispered softly to her and without taking his eyes off her, he unlocked his car with the remote.

When Massie didn't move, Derrick sighed and gave her a push which meant that she was supposed to leave now. She stared at him for a few seconds before she complied with a nod.

Gripping her hands together in a death grip, Massie stomped her way towards the car. She got in and closed the door loud enough for the entire town to hear. She sat inside the car, her arms crossed in front of her, and waited for Derrick to finish.

Massie tried to look at what was happening but Derrick's back was blocking her view. But basing on Derrick's stance, she knew he was giving Gazette Gorilla a piece of his mind. Massie vehemently hoped he would arrest Olivia.

When Derrick finally turned and walked towards her, her gaze immediately went to Olivia who seemed like her feet was permanently cemented against the ground. She had a worried look on her face and Massie found triumph in that.

By the time Derrick joined her inside the car and pulled away from the Main Street, Massie was grinning smugly.

Derrick cast an anxious glance in her direction. "What's wrong with you?" He asked.

Massie stared back at him innocently. "Nothing's wrong with me."

"You're grinning like a simpleton."

"What's wrong if I grin like a simpleton? You do it all the time." She accused.

"Very funny."

"I wasn't joking."

He groaned. "You're twisting my words back to me."

"I'm not twisting anything." She said. "I'm simply stating a fact."

The woman was exasperating!

Derrick pulled the car to a stop in the middle of the road. He turned to Massie and shot her a hard scowl. "Are you going to tell me what the hell's so funny or I'll kiss it out of you?" He threatened.

Massie sighed, defeated. "Alright, alright. I was grinning because whatever you said to Olivia Ryan must've scared her off. That way she wouldn't bother me anymore. Happy?" She matched his glare with her own. "Now, start the car."

Derrick complied. As soon as they were moving again, Massie asked, "Just to satisfy my curiosity, what exactly did you tell her?"

"I told her that you could sue her with harassment." He simply answered.

Massie's face fell. "Oh."

Derrick cast her a glance before he turned back to the road. "You know, keeping track of your thoughts is far more difficult than catching the unsub."

She looked at him, confused.

He sighed. "You seem disappointed. I wonder what caused the sudden change."

"Oh." She muttered. "I was just expecting you to arrest her, that's all."

Derrick couldn't help but laugh. "Massie, you can't arrest someone for being a horrendous bitch."

"I know. I was just hoping."

Silence filled the air between them.

"It's your fault, you know." Massie murmured.

Derrick wasn't sure if he heard her correctly. "What? Did you say something?"

"Yes, I did." Massie said. "I said, it's your fault."

He waited for her to continue but when three minutes have passed, he decided she wouldn't elaborate her answer. "What is my fault?"

"If you didn't call me sweetheart, or baby, or honey, none of this would've happened. And if only you would be more of a help than a nuisance, this rumor wouldn't strengthen or spread further."

"What rumor?" He asked innocently.

She crossed her arms and glared at him. "About us being couple."

"Oh. Yeah, that." He muttered. "I know one way for this 'rumor' to evaporate."

"Yeah? What?"

"Tomorrow at the picnic, let me kiss you in front of everyone. That way the rumor wouldn't be a rumor anymore. It would be a fact. Have the good old people of Westchester gossip about something."

"Are you serious?" She sounded so astonished.

Derrick maintained a straight face when he answered. "Yes. I'm serious."

She thought about it for a moment. "Derrick?"

"Yeah?"

"You're an insane pervert."

Derrick answered that insult by laughing out loud.

**Haha! Great guesses, people! But it wasn't Olivia Ryan who's lusting after Derrick. It's ALICIA! =))**

**Review, arryt?**


	15. Chapter 14

**I got into a fight with my parents (again) but no biggie. But it would probably affect my updates. I'll try to update as fast as I could though. I'll TRY. Whenever they're not around, that's when I'll try. HAHA. For the meantime, I cool them off. And I know how. It's called the Soothing-My-Parents'-Effin'-Temper. Ingredients: (a) spicy Tortilla or polio loco, and (b) placating them with innocent and goody-two-shoes smiles. Works every time. :))**

**Thank you, thank you, thank you for the reviews! I am genuinely surprised at how this story got such responses. But I'm grateful and blissfully happy, though. :))**

**I own nothing.**

Chapter 14

"Where are we going?" Massie asked when Derrick drove past her street.

Without taking his eyes off the road, he answered, "Getting take-outs. I remember you mentioning about the DVDs. Your offer's still open?"

"Of course." She said. "If we're getting take-outs, Rosebriar's probably the best place." She recommended.

"Alright. Lead the way."

Five minutes later, Derrick was pulling over Rosebrair Restaurant's parking lot which was filled with vans and worn-out trucks.

The cobblestone path curved around the building. Derrick had one arm around Massie's waist in a protective yet a bit possessive manner. He was eyeing the terrain cautiously all the while.

Terra-cotta pots brimming with red and white geraniums lined the path to the door. The Rosebriar was an old sprawling Victorian-style house that had been converted into a restaurant. The dining room was richly appointed with crystal vases filled with spring flowers on all the white linen tablecloths. The china looked old and expensive.

The room they were shown into was in the back of the house, overlooking a duck pond and the woods. They were led to a front table in front of the window so they could enjoy the view.

The room was quite full. It was noisy with laughter and chatter. Quite a few families were dining with their children. As they threaded their way to the window, heads turned to watch Massie and, of course, Derrick. Even the children were mesmerized by Massie. She, on the other hand, appeared oblivious to the admiring gazes of every man in the restaurant.

The waiter pulled the table out so that Massie could sit, facing the window. Derrick sat across from her, his stance and eyes scanning the crowd with nonchalant caution.

As Massie gave the waiter their order, Derrick's phone rang. He listened for half a minute and as the waiter was retreating, he said, "Yes, sir" to the receiver and hung up.

"The sheriff just got out of a new, red Ford Explorer. He's headed this way." He told her.

"Is he alone?" Massie asked.

"Looks that way."

"The lodge holds its weekly meetings here." Massie said. "The others are probably upstairs in one of the smaller rooms."

"Is Brenner a member of the lodge?"

"I think so."

"Maybe after we get our take out, I'll go up and say hello." Derrick said with a mischievous smile. "I sure am dying to meet good, old Steve Brenner."

A minute later the sheriff strutted into the entry. Dressed in his gray uniform and cowboy boots, he didn't bother to remove his hat when he entered the restaurant. Derrick watched the hostess pick up a menu and lead the sheriff upstairs.

After their take out arrived, Massie and Derrick argued for a whole minute whether who between the two of them gets to pay for dinner. Apparently, Derrick won and so he took out his American Express card and handed it to the waiter. Another five minutes was spent waiting for his credit card to be returned.

On their way out of the restaurant, a family of four called Massie and, dragging Derrick with her, she walked over to the Griffins with a bright smile. She made the necessary introductions, telling them that Derrick was her brother's best friend and offered no more information. Dalia and Penn Griffin, however, blatantly asked them if they were a couple. Massie blushed, explained, and blushed more before they were finally allowed to leave.

Lonnie was waiting for them outside. His Chevy Nova careened into the parking lot as Derrick and Massie were heading toward their car. The Chevy came to a screeching stop in the center of the lot, just a few feet from them. Derrick pushed Massie between two cars and got in front of her, waiting to see what the driver was going to do.

Lonnie wasn't alone. There were three others in the car with him, all with juvenile records. Whenever Lonnie had an important job to do for Steve Brenner, he made sure his friends were included. He gave them only a pittance of the money Steve paid, but they were too stupid to think that he might be screwing them out of their fair share. Besides, they were in it for the fun, not the money, and Lonnie had another reason for involving them. If things went bad, they'd take the rap. His good-for-nothing father would have to let him go. How would it look like if the sheriff's son were tossed in jail? Being a big man meant everything to him, and Lonnie figure he could get away with murder if he were careful about it.

Steve told Lonnie that Massie and her boyfriend were driving a new Ford Explorer, and they were standing next to a new, red Ford Explorer. Steve hadn't told him anything about Derrick except that he _rumored_ to be dating Massie Block. Since Steve planned on marrying Massie, Lonnie needed to put the fear of God into Derrick. "Run him out of town." Steve had ordered and Lonnie, salivating over the wad of cash Steve dangled in front of him, promised just to do that.

"That's the sheriff's son, Lonnie." Massie whispered to Derrick. "What's he up to?"

"Looks like we're going to find out real soon." He whispered back. Then he shouted, "Hey, kid, move your car."

Lonnie left the motor running as he opened the door and jumped out. He was tall and gangly, his complexion marred by acne scars. His thin lips disappeared inside his sneer, and his hair hung down his face in long, oily strands. Derrick judged him to be around eighteen or nineteen years old.

This one was already a lost cause. Derrick could see it in his eyes.

"Let's start with the car." He told his friends. "Trash it." He pulled his switchblade knife out of his front pocket. Snickering, he boasted to his friends, "I'm going to scare the shit out of Mr. Big City. Watch and learn." He flipped the dirty blade open as he slowly advanced. "Massie, you're riding home with us, 'cause your boyfriend's car's going to be a piece of shit by the time I finish taking care out it."

Derrick laughed. It wasn't the response Lonnie expected. "What's so damned funny?"

"You." Derrick answered. Even though he knew Massie heard Lonnie's threat, Derrick called to her, "Hey, honey. Did you hear him? The local thug wants to trash our new car."

"But that's…" Massie began to say.

Derrick cut him off at the same time squeezing her hand secretly. "Sure it is."

Massie immediately understood. She decided to play along. "Is he stupid or what?" Massie asked incredulously.

"I think he must be." Derrick drawled as he reached inside his jacket and flipped the snap holding his gun in place.

Furious that he was being mocked in front of his friends, Lonnie lunged forward and thrust the knife in the left front tire. Then he thrust again and smiled when he heard the hiss of air.

"Still think I'm being stupid?" Lonnie asked.

"Thank God we've got a spare." Massie called out.

Lonnie reacted just the way Massie hoped he would. He sliced the other tire. His friends hooted with laughter, and that only encouraged him. He carved a jagged line in the grille and did the same to the hood.

Then he stepped back and surveyed his handiwork. "Now, how are you going to get home?" he taunted.

Derrick shrugged. "I figured I'd drive my car."

"With two flat tires?"

Derrick smiled. "This isn't my car."

Lonnie blinked. Derrick took a step toward him as he called out, "Hey, darling, maybe you ought to tell the sheriff his boy's been messing with his new car."

"Shit!" Lonnie shouted.

"Drop the knife. Do it now." Derrick ordered. "Don't make this worse than it already is. You've destroyed private property and threatened a federal ─"

He was about to tell Lonnie that he was an FBI agent but wasn't given a chance.

"Nobody makes a fool out of me." Lonnie hissed.

"You did that all by yourself." Derrick countered. "Now, drop the knife. This is your last warning."

Lonnie lunged, shouting. "I'm going to cut you up into pieces, you asshole."

The boast was empty. "Yeah, right." Derrick said as he kneed Lonnie, then snatched the knife and tossed it to the ground. He slammed him into the car, setting off the alarm.

It happened so fast, Massie didn't even had the chance to blink. Lonnie was doubling over, screaming in agony. She saw the knife and kicked it under the car.

The second the alarm went off, Lonnie's buddies scrambled to their car and piled in. Derrick let go of Lonnie and watched him collapse.

"You asshole! I'm going to ─" Lonnie began.

"Oh, look. Here comes Daddy." Derrick said cheerfully.

The sheriff was running down the steps, his stomach jiggling up and down. In the meantime, the three boys in the car were all frantically trying to find the keys. Derrick strolled to the driver's side and said, "Looking for these?"

"We didn't do anything. It was Lonnie's idea." A boy with red hair and freckles said.

"Shut up, Ricky." The boy in the backseat shouted.

"Get out of the car." Derrick ordered. "Nice and easy and keep your hands where I can see them."

The sheriff looked like he wanted to cry. "My new car? Look at my new car! Did you do this, boy? Did you?"

Lonnie struggled to his feet. "No." He sneered. "That asshole did it." He said, pointing to Derrick. "And he kicked me in the knee, too."

"I was going to tell you I bought myself a new car." The sheriff continued as if he didn't hear Lonnie. "I was going to tell you. I was going to let you drive it, too." He trailed his hand along the deep scratches on the hood, his eyes misty. "It wasn't even perfect for one day. I just picked it up."

"I'm telling you, the asshole did it." Lonnie roared.

"The kid needs some work on his vocabulary." Derrick remarked.

"Are you going to believe me or not?" Lonnie shouted at his father. "I'm telling you for the last time, he cut your tires and scratched the paint."

Massie was incensed. She walked forward to face the sheriff. "I know he's your son and this is difficult for you, but you are the sheriff, and you have to do your job. Lonnie's lying. He did the damage. He thought your new car belonged to my friend. Like it or not, you're going to have to arrest him."

Lloyd put his hands up. "Slow down, Massie. No need to be hasty. It's my car and I'll make sure my boy pays the consequences _if _he did the damage, but he's saying your boyfriend ─"

Massie cut him off. She was so angry, she was sputtering. "He's lying." She repeated. "Lonnie threatened us with a knife."

Looking away from Massie to Derrick, he said, "You'd best get your woman under control. I'm not going to put up with her yapping at me. Now you just back away, Massie, and hold your tongue."

Massie couldn't believe the sheriff was talking to her as if she were a naughty child. "Hold my tongue? I don't think so." She snapped. "Do something." She demanded.

The sheriff glared at her. "I'm going to do something." He snapped back. "You there," he said, pointing to Derrick. "I need to see some identification, and I want to see it now."

Massie's temper exploded. She turned around, threw her shaking hands in the air and spoke in rapid French, telling the skies what an incompetent fool she thought the sheriff was. In fluent French, Derrick told her to calm down.

The sheriff's hands were balled into fists and he was too angry and a bit terrified to think coherently that he forgot that he already knew who and what Massie's boyfriend was. He kept glancing at his son. He wanted to kick some sense into the boy, and it took a great deal of discipline to control his fury. Besides, if he did give in to his temper, Lonnie would most definitely retaliate. There was a good chance Lonnie would strike back and beat the hell out of him. He'd done it before and there was no doubt in the sheriff's mind that his son would do it again.

"I said I want to see some identification." He demanded, venturing his anger towards Massie's boyfriend.

"No problem." Derrick replied as he pulled out his badge and flipped it open. "Derrick Harrington, sheriff. FBI."

The sheriff finally remembered. "Ah, shit." He moaned.

"You're going to have to lock him up. I'll come by tomorrow and fill up the paperwork."

"What paperwork, Mr. FBI Agent? It was my car that got damaged. Lonnie, stop your snickering or I swear I'll backhand you."

Massie spoke again. "I'm not real familiar with the law, but a crime was committed here by your son. Lonnie threatened an FBI agent with a knife, and that's some kind of a crime, isn't it?"

"Well, now maybe it is and maybe it isn't." The sheriff hedged. "I don't see a knife, so what you're claiming must be a fabrication. Do you see my dilemma?"

"The knife's under the car." Derrick told him.

"Why is it under the car?" The sheriff asked.

"I kicked it there." Massie answered.

"What were you doing with a knife?"

"Oh, for the love of…" she began.

The sheriff took his hat off and scratched his head. "Now, here's what I'm going to do. You all can go home and let me handle this. You can by the office tomorrow but you've got to call me first." He told Derrick. "I'll have it all sorted out by then. Go on home now."

Massie was so furious she was trembling. Without a word, she turned her back on the sheriff and walked to Derrick's car, her high heels clicking hard on the pavement.

Derrick could hear her muttering under her breath. As he opened the passenger door, he took hold of her hand. "Are you alright? You're trembling. You weren't scared, were you? I wouldn't have let anything happen to you. You do know that, don't you?"

"Yes" She answered. "I'm just angry, that's all. The sheriff isn't going to do anything about Lonnie. He certainly won't arrest him. You just wait and see."

"You are angry."

"Of course, I am. He had a knife." She cried out. "He could have hurt you."

Derrick was taken aback. "You were worried about me?"

"Of course I was worried about you. Now, will you stop grinning like an idiot and get in the car? I want watch a movie and eat."

He wanted to kiss her but settled in squeezing her hand, instead. It was a sorry substitute.

**The sheriff's an ass. Don't you agree?**

**Anyway, I just want to tell you that the next chapter will be utterly enjoyable. Haha. I'll give you a hints:**

_His mouth was just inches away from her. She closed her eyes, her breath unsteady, and waited._

**Two more:**

_He was tucking his T-shirt into his jeans. "You make it easy." He opened the door and stepped out into the hall. "Come here, Massie."_

_The way he was looking at her made her stomach flutter. She walked over to the door. "Yes?"_

**Mwahaha! I'm evil! Hahaha! Sorry, guys, I just can't help it. :DDD**

**So, if you want to know the entire juices, stay tune!**

**And review. *smiling innocently***


	16. Chapter 15

**Here's the chapter. HAHA! Enjoy. I enjoyed writing it.**

**I own nothing.**

Chapter 15

When Derrick and Massie turned to her street, he immediately saw the old, white and savagely beaten Thunderbird nestled in Massie's two-car driveway. "Whose car is that?" He asked as he pulled his car beside the godforsaken thing.

Massie, who was preoccupied thinking about Lonnie, turned to look at him with a bewildered look.

He sighed, showing her his exasperation, and jerked his chin towards the car on his left.

She took time looking at it before her face broke into a wide grin. "Oh, my! They finally fixed my car!" She squealed in delight and in her exuberance, she kicked the door open and ran out to stand in front of her dear car.

Derrick cut the engine, pulled out his keys and carried their take out before he got out and stood beside Massie. "This is yours?"

She raised an eyebrow at him, wondering why he sounded so incredulous. "Yes."

He wasn't sure if he heard her correctly. "This damn ugly thing is your car?"

She placed her hands on her hips and glared at him. "Yes, this is my car. And, for the record, it's not a 'damn ugly thing'. I happen to adore this car.

"How old is this thing?" He asked without taking his eyes off the car.

"It's a car." She snapped. "It's older than you are. And why are you so appalled?"

He thought she was jesting but when he heard the sincerity and the conviction in her tone, he decided to give her his full attention.

When he first saw her, he knew at once that she was different from other women. He could see it in the way she carried herself. She was neither a proud woman nor a vain one. But this new knowledge certainly caught him off guard. Despite those qualities, he knew all women were born craving for indulgences. And considering the fact that she belonged to one of the wealthiest family in the whole world, it only strengthened his theory. He expected a large house, lavish cars, designer clothes and jewelries, and expensive and foreign furniture. Until now, he hadn't realized that Massie neither had any of those. Well, except for the clothes and the plasma TV in her bedroom which she had already mentioned was a birthday gift from her brother, Adam. She had designer clothes, alright, but that was all. No large house, lavish cars (especially none of those), jewelries and expensive and foreign furniture. It seemed that there was more about Massie that he didn't and had never expected.

"Now, why are you smiling?" Massie's question jarred him back to the present.

"Nothing." He said but continued to smile.

Massie shook her head. Mostly because of his adorable grin and the dimples that formed at the corners of his mouth were distracting the hell out of her. "Seriously, Derrick, you're the most compelling person I've ever met."

"Aside from you, that is." Derrick said.

She started to glower at him but suddenly, he winked at her. And damn if she didn't begin to hyperventilate.

Derrick was clearly enjoying the fact that he was getting her riled up. He would've goaded her further if he didn't notice Bessie Jean waving at them from the picket fence which separated her house and Massie's. He waved back at the old woman and whispered to Massie, "Bessie Jean's calling us."

Massie snapped out of her trance and wheeled around. "Good evening, Bessie Jean."

"Well, hello, dear. I was wondering how long you two would ignore me." She smiled so the rebuke was softened.

"I'm sorry, ma'am. We were preoccupied." Derrick said.

"I can see that you two were." She had a malicious glint in her eyes which made Massie blush. "But enough of the small talk, seeing that this topic embarrasses Massie," Bessie Jean said while Massie blushed redder and Derrick chuckled, enjoying her discomfort. "Johnny Dates was here this afternoon, dear. He dropped your car off and since your house was empty, he left the keys to me." At the same time she said this, her hand sought for the car keys in her robe's front pocket. "Oh, here it is."

After Massie took her keys from the old lady, she thanked her, bid her goodnight and walked inside the house with Derrick trailing behind her.

As soon as Derrick closed the door behind them, Joe appeared at the bottom step of the stairs. "Did you get your keys from the old bat?"

Massie's scowl told him that she didn't approve of his reference towards Bessie Jean. "Yes. I did get my keys from the _Bessie Jean_."

Joe shrugged to show his indifference.

She decided to ignore him and turned to Derrick who was making his way to the kitchen. "I'll take a shower first before I pick the movie while you fix the food, alright?"

"Yeah. Sure." Derrick muttered and disappeared in the kitchen.

Massie gave Joe a good frown before she walked up to her bedroom. She hurriedly showered and change into her boy boxer shorts and oversized Yale t-shirt. She didn't bother to dry her hair and immediately saw to the task of searching for a good movie.

Derrick strolled inside her room with their food when she was about to play the movie she picked.

"What are we watching?" He asked while he handed her her dinner.

She grinned at him. "Wait and see. You'll love it."

As soon as the opening credits started, he loathed it.

It was The Titanic, a love story that made her cry and made him laugh. She accused him of not having a sentimental bone in his body and he took that as a compliment.

When the movie ended, Massie's eyes were red and puffy and she was using his handkerchief to dab the corners of her eyes. "That was so sad." She sniffed.

"Yeah, it's killing me." He murmured sarcastically while his mouth was full of food.

A pillow flew towards him and smacked his face. She took another pillow and another and another. He placed their food on the floor and used his one hand to grab her wrist and the other to block the pillow she was about to throw at him. Before they knew it, they were wrestling and was rolling on the bed while Massie fought for freedom and giggled in between protests.

Five minutes later, he had her back against the bed with his one hand pinning both of hers above her head and his other on her waist. He used his weight to restrain the rest of her.

Massie stopped giggling and the carefree atmosphere evaporated at once. They stared into each other's eyes for what seemed like an eternity.

_Kiss me, _she demanded in her head. _Kiss me now, you twerp._

_Kick me out, _he thought. _Kick me out now before I maul you_.

His ragged breath mingled her own. It sounded like music. For another couple of minutes, they stayed like that. Staring into each other's eyes. When she started to move restlessly against him, he knew he should put a stop to this ridiculous position.

"I think we should watch another movie." He suggested, his voice barely a whisper.

"Yes." She whispered back, without breaking contact with his eyes. "I think we should."

Before she realized it, he jumped off her. "I get to pick what's next." He announced cheerfully.

While Derrick rummaged through her DVD collection, she sat still on the edge of the bed, trying to calm her heart beat. The man only had to look into her eyes and she'd melt! Dear, God! Her discipline was as feeble as a pig's.

When he finally found what he was looking for, he placed it inside the player and jumped back on the bed. He lay on his stomach, facing the TV, and crooked his finger at Massie to join him. Without a second's hesitation, she complied.

The movie he chose was a classic, too. It was Rambo, the first one. It was a rip-'em-up, shoot-'em-up, skim-'em-alive with lots of special effect and blood. He loved it. She was nauseated.

Both of them were laying so close to each other that their feet were touching. She was barefoot; he had socks. One had a big hole in it. But the proximity wasn't uncomfortable. In fact, it made both of them more comfortable.

The closing credits were rolling when Derrick asked, "Want to watch it again?"

She didn't think he was kidding. "No, thank you. It was too violent for me."

"You thought it was violent?" He acted surprised by her reaction.

"Derrick, I counted thirty-two dead bodies."

"That's not so bad." He said with a straight face.

"Thirty two in the first half hour. I stopped counting after that."

"Hey, they were predators and of course, there were preys. What did you expect? Fairies, princesses and prince charmings?"

She ignored his sarcastic remark. "A little less blood would have been nice."

"Yeah, but not as scary. Man, I loved those kinds of movies when I was a kid."

"You liked being scary?"

"Sure."

"What about nightmares?"

"I shared a room with my brother Dylan, and I figured if any monsters got in, the two of us could take them." He grinned as he added, "I was kinda cocky back then."

"Back then? I've got news for you, hotshot. You still are."

He laughed. "Hotshot? I come from a family of eight and we were all hotshot at one time or another."

She sighed. "I know."

"You've met all of my brothers and sisters, haven't you?"

"Yeah. I did." She answered. "Spencer brought me and Adam the spring when I graduated from college. Aiden was in a business trip. You weren't there because you were assigned to a case in Wisconsin. I used to have a crush on Dylan, you know." She admitted with a blush. "But that was before. When I knew he was a ladies' man and when I got to answer some of his _lady friends'_ calls, I avoided him. He kept on following me, though." He laughed. He loved the sound of it. "I used to think he was a predator and I'm his prey."

He laughed, too, though his chest tightened when he heard that she had a crush on his younger brother. "Hah. You weren't the only one who had a crush on him. In fact, almost all my brothers had the hots for you. The Judge and Mother used to lock them inside their rooms to stop them from lunging for you."

They both laughed at that.

She nudged his shoulder. "I'll bet you gave the Judge and your mother gray hair when you were a child. It's lucky you grew up. But I guess I did some pretty reckless stuff back then, too."

"Is that a boast?"

When she didn't answer him, he nudged her shoulder.

"I'm sure I was just as reckless as you were."

They spent the next hour trying to one-up each other with the dumb stunts they pulled when they'd pulled as children. Apparently, Derrick won hands down.

"How come all your stories about your childhood involved power tools?" She asked.

He chuckled. "Not all, just some. How come you never mentioned your parents in your stories?"

"You already know that my father died before I was born and my mother was never at home. I guess there wasn't any point of mentioning them considering that I didn't spend so much time with them. Although, I do remember telling my mother goodnight over the phone."

"Now, that's just sad. Spencer never told me that. He just said your mother was rarely at home."

She laughed. "No, it isn't sad. It's just the way things were."

"That's no way for a little girl to grow up. How come you turned out so normal?"

"Who says I'm normal?"

"I do. I bet I just know everything there is to know about you." He was teasing and was being very arrogant. "I know what you like and what you don't like."

"Aside from what Spencer might've told you, I doubt that." She said.

"You hate salmon; you're allergic to strawberries and you sneeze whenever you're around roses."

She retaliated. "You're a ketchup freak. You put it on everything. Even on peanut butter sandwiches. You hate thin-crust pizzas and you aren't allergic to anything."

"My turn again? Okay. You're competitive; you're a full-blown liberal trapped in family of conservatives, and honest to God, I don't know how that happened you think you're good at hiding your emotions but your not, and you don't trust men or marriage."

He had touched a nerve and she sounded a bit defensive when she responded. "You're far more competitive than I am; you think you're a liberal but in fact, you're a conservative; you have strong, unbendable values and, Derrick, I do trust men."

"And marriage?"

"My mother was married twice and both of them were unfaithful until their graves. I don't want to make the same mistakes and based on my bad luck with proposals and marriage and men, I've learned that there's no such thing as now and forever."

"Unless you find the right man."

"That's the trick, isn't it? Knowing who's right or wrong. I think it's all a guessing game."

"No, it isn't." He argued. "And it's not science, either."

"Oh? Then how will you know who's right for you?"

"Are you asking me to describe my perfect woman?"

"There's no such thing as a perfect woman." She said.

"Sure there is." He disagreed.

"Oh? What does she look like?"

Their arms were touching and neither of them moved away.

"She has reddish brown hair." He began.

"Yes?"

"And amber eyes. The color of yellow fossil resin. Incredible amber eyes."

He was leaning down towards her. She thought he might kiss her. She hoped to God he would.

"She's got a great body."

"Of course she does."

"Are you mocking my fantasy woman?"

"No." She said, smiling. "Go on. What else? Does she have magic powers?"

He leaned closer to her. "It will be magic when we're together."

Oh, God, he was really going to kiss her. She held her breath in anticipation.

"And long, flawless legs." He said, his voice whisper-soft now.

His knuckles trailed down the sides of her face. She had to force herself to stay still and not to lean into the caress. Why wouldn't he kiss her? What was taking him so long?

"Does this perfect woman have a brain or is not having a brain what makes her perfect?" She asked.

"Of course she has a brain. She's very intelligent, has a quick wit and makes me laugh and scowl with the smallest things. She's got this wonderful combination of vulnerability and stubbornness. And that, Massie, is my perfect woman."

His mouth was just inches from hers. They were so close now that if she shifted a bit, their lips would meet. She closed her eyes and waited.

He tweaked her nose. "Got to go."

She blinked. "You…what?"

"Got to go."

He had his shoes on, the laces tied, and was halfway to the door before she had her wits about her.

She stood and was having difficulty not to run to him.

"You have fun teasing me, don't you?" She asked.

He was tucking his t-shirt into his jeans. "You make it easy." He opened the door and stepped out into the hall. "Come here, Massie." His voice turned husky.

The way he was looking at her made her stomach flutter. She walked over to the door. "Yes?"

He took his sweet time staring at her before he answered. "Remember not to lock your door."

"Oh. Yes, okay." She felt so stupid that she wanted to bang her head into the wall.

He pulled the door closed. "Night."

Derrick laughed all the way to the guest room.

**Bwahahahaha! What did you, guys, think when you read the preview? Did you think Massie's finally getting some color on her cheeks? HAHA. :DD**

**Things from this chapter will be getting more and more interesting. More threats will be posted, more secrets to be revealed, more people to meet, more sexual tension from our favorite lovebirds! Ya better grip the edges of your seats because the suspense is just starting. :)) And I'm not rushing or revealing anything! Haha!**

**Review, 'kay?**


	17. Chapter 16

**Thanks for the reviews! Another Massington chapter. :))) Hope you'll like it.**

**I own nothing.**

Chapter 16

Next morning, Massie was in the kitchen fixing breakfast when Derrick came down, bathed and fully dressed. He was hanging his phone up when he joined Massie and Joe.

"Good morning." Massie greeted cheerfully.

Derrick grunted in reply as he sat across Joe.

The men talked and discussed tactics and the news while Massie finished the bacon and eggs. The toaster dinged just in time Massie placed the food on the table. After getting the toasted bread and orange juice, she took her seat and ate as she listened to Derrick and Joe.

"What are we doing today?" Derrick asked Massie.

She swallowed her food first before answering. "We're going to my store. My orders are arriving today and I have to unload the boxes and bring them to the basement. Then, we're going home to change before we head to the picnic which is at five if you've forgotten."

When she mentioned about him forgetting, he reacted as if she insulted him. "I don't forget." He snapped. "And what the hell's wrong with your clothes? Why do you have to change?"

Massie was wearing a long sleeveless plaid shirt with the top two buttons unbuttoned. She knotted the shirt just above her navel. Her tight, denim cropped jeans made her long legs even more amazing. She chose to wear the white strap-on wedges instead of the brown slip-on sandals which were her first choice.

Massie simply shrugged. Derrick decided to drop the subject.

Ten minutes later, they were done. Massie stood up to get her bag from the living room. Derrick was trailing behind her, twirling his keys around his index finger, listening to Joe who was telling him new developments. He only noticed what Massie was wearing when she turned around and faced him.

"What the hell are you wearing?" Derrick roared, his eyes glaring at her exposed stomach.

As soon as Joe heard the anger in his voice, he hastily left the room with a smile. He knew Derrick was bound to notice what Massie was wearing. Up until now, he was anticipating his reaction. He certainly wasn't disappointed.

"What do you mean what the hell I'm wearing?" Massie looked confused. She didn't know why on earth he was angry. One minute he was smiling like the idiot he was, the next minute he was shouting like the demented person he was.

"Are you walking around town looking like that?" Derrick demanded. "Hell, we'll be working our asses off for the next few hours! What do you think? You'll be carrying boxes while assholes will gawk at your stomach!"

_Oh, _she thought. _That was why he was getting angry_. "For your information, Mr. Harrington, I perfectly know what we will be doing for the next few hours. And men here in Westchester are gentlemen who know better than to gawk at my stomach. Seriously, Derrick, I don't understand why the hell you're getting all worked up. It's my body, for God's sake! And it's not like I'm wearing a sign across my chest saying 'Hey, guys, you wanna grab my ass and have a good time?'." She said.

The fire in Derrick's eyes grew more and more unbearable to look at. He moved to stand block the front door, placed his hands on his waist and continued to glare at her. "I'm not moving from this place unless you go upstairs and change into a decent set of clothes."

Massie wasn't the kind to be intimidated. She walked towards him, stopped when she was three steps away from where he was then matched his stance and glare with one of her own. "What clothes do you consider decent, huh? Let me guess. A long t-shirt that covers my neck, my arms and legs? Let me see if I have burka upstairs." She said sarcastically. "Look, people here are used to seeing me looking like this and never once had any man harassed me. Why do you even care?" She added after a few seconds.

Why does he even care? Derrick didn't even know why. All he knew was that whoever tries to make his move on his woman would surely breathe his last breath.

Wait. Did he just say _his _woman? Where the hell did that come from?

Massie took advantage of his preoccupation. She rushed around him and ran outside. She was already standing beside his car when Derrick crossed his way towards her.

"I don't care how you dress." He said when they were already on their way to her store.

Massie turned to him and studied his expression.

He still seemed distant. His knuckles were white from gripping the steering wheel too hard and his lips were tightly pursed. He looked like he was in pain. Massie decided to soothe him.

She gently placed a hand on his arm.

He reacted as though she electrocuted him. He flinched.

His reaction insulted her but she didn't allow that to ruin her mood. In a soft voice, she said, "I'm sorry if I upset you. If I knew how much my way of dressing disturbed you, I should have taken consideration. I promise I'll dress more appropriately from now on."

They were already at the street across her store. Derrick killed the engine and turned to face her. His expression had softened. "No. It's fine. I just overreacted. I don't want you to change who you are, Massie. It's what makes you special and beautiful." His smile was soft and gentle.

He called her special and beautiful. After he realized that fact, he immediately turned to being brisk and rude. "Now, enough with the drama and get your ass out of the car. We've got work to do and boxes to unload." With that curd command, he got out of the car and strode towards the store with his hands shoved inside his pockets.

Massie stared after him for awhile. The impact of his words still hasn't left her. He spoke without guard but with warmth and if possible, love. His abrupt order hadn't swayed her for she was too much happy.

She was already falling in love with him.

After she made that realization, her heart began to vigorously slam against her chest. The realization sent chills down her spine. When his job was over, he would leave and go back to his more beautiful women.

"This is nuts." She whispered as she smashed her hand against the door and got out. She had a stupid crush on her brother's best friend. That's all there was to it.

Half-convinced, she crossed the street and went to join Derrick who was talking to the driver of the delivering truck parked in front of her store.

The rest of the morning was spent fixing the store and unloading the many boxes at the back of the truck. In the middle of the hot weather, she pulled her hair in a ponytail with a ribbon she found on the counter in her store. Sweat was beginning to trickle from her ear to the valley between her breasts. She was coming out of the store to get another box when Derrick, who was outside, placed the box he was carrying on the ground, reached behind him and pulled his white V-neck shirt over his head, leaving his chest free for her to gawk at.

When he said people would be gawking at her, he had it all wrong. They would be all gawking at him.

She had seen him half-naked before, of course, but she had closed her eyes half that time and didn't get the chance to study him with her full intention.

Well, now, he had her entire, undivided attention, alright.

Sunlight made his skin bronze. He did look like a Greek god. It seemed like every contour of his chest was deliberately designed by the gods using the most expensive and the most magical ingredients. Her eyes started to trail an imaginary line from his neck to his chest which had few dark hairs. Her curious eyes traveled down to his navel and lower to the thin-covered V-part that disappeared beneath the waistband of his jeans.

"What the hell are you looking at?"

Derrick's question pulled her out of her lustful fantasies.

She didn't dare meet his eyes when she muttered a lame excuse and walked hastily to the other side of the truck. In her haste, she tripped over her own foot. She would've fell facedown if Derrick didn't catch her. Dear, God, she was touching his chest now. Lord, have mercy.

"T-thank you." She stammered and disentangled herself from him.

Derrick knew his half-nakedness was rattling her and he didn't know why but he found that reaction of hers pleasing and amusing. He was smiling like simpleton when he carried the box inside the store.

Outside, Massie was having trouble with controlling her sexual urges. Hah! She was having sinful thoughts about her big brother's best friend. It had become a habit now. It started with her drawing his pictures at night and watching him at the corner of her eye whenever he didn't know she was staring. Then, now, he starred in her dreams. And usually, they both had no clothes on.

She was engrossed with her absurd thoughts that she didn't notice the man who was riding a bike. He was riding so fast that the breaks broke and he ended up hitting her hard.

The box Massie was carrying went flying in one direction and the man and his bike toppled over her. Massie suddenly found herself pinned down against the ground with the bike and its owner over her. Her head had hit the ground hard enough to give her a big bruise and a massive headache for the next following days. She groaned at that.

Derrick was just coming up from the basement when he heard the crash. Without thinking, he went running like a madman, his only coherent thought was that Massie was in danger. He was certainly not prepared for what was waiting for him when he kicked the front door.

Massie was lying on the ground, immobile with a bike and a guy about his size trapping her. He thought he was going to fall to the ground when he heard Massie groan.

He let out a relieved sigh. She was fine. She was alive.

As rage began to build inside him, the man who knocked her over immediately stood up. He looked down at Massie and grabbed the bike. "Oh, my goodness! I'm so sorry. My bike lost its breaks. I didn't see you. I'm so sorry."

Derrick scoffed at that lame excuse. Didn't see her? God. The man was an asshole.

He moved at once when the dark-haired man helped Massie up. He shoved the eager-looking guy and lifted Massie into his arms. Massie instinctively placed her arms around his neck and cuddled closer. He briefly smiled at that then he remembered their company.

He glared at him.

The man stepped forward. "I'm so sorry, man. I didn't see her. My bike lost its breaks so ─"

"Yeah, I've heard enough." Derrick interrupted him curtly. "Are you drunk? High? Either way, I'm expecting you to be heading to the precinct now." He said in a cold voice.

Massie pinched him to get his attention but he ignored her. "I want to see some identification. And I mean it, _now_." He growled.

She pinched him harder and added a nudge to get his attention.

He sighed and stared down at her. "What?"

"It was an accident." She said and turned to the man. "It was, wasn't it?"

The man nodded vigorously. "Yes, it was. Honestly, I didn't see you. I'm really, really sorry. I was in a hurry to get to work."

She nodded at him with a smile then turned back to Derrick. "See? It was an accident, Derrick. No need to overreact."

He looked like he didn't believe her. He leaned closer to her, though. "Are you hurt?" He whispered.

She shook her head. The movement made her nauseous. "No. I'm fine." She lied.

He still didn't believe her.

"Please?" She pleaded, placing her hand on his chest.

A few seconds passed before he sighed. "Alright, then." He submitted. Looking up to the man, he said, "Run away before I change my mind." He snarled.

Without a moment's hesitation, the dark-haired man ran away, dragging his bike loudly behind him.

"Derrick?"

Derrick quit glaring at the man's retreating back and turned to smile softly at Massie. "Hmm?"

"Can you please put me down?" She asked.

"Can we stand on your feet?"

"Yes." She said. "And if I can't, I'll stand on my hands." She teased.

He glared at her. "Not funny."

She smiled back. "Not for you. But for me, it was."

The joy in her voice broke through his walls. He finally laughed. "You're impossible."

"Told you I'm not normal."

They laughed together.

Derrick put her down and when her feet were planted on the ground, she began to feel dizzy. She swayed and Derrick caught her before she could hit the ground.

"I thought you said you could stand." He said.

She sighed. "I thought I could. How could we finish unloading the boxes now?" She cried out.

He smiled at her. "I'll do it. Besides, there's the Tom, the driver. He's arranging them downstairs. You just sit here and wait, alright?" He led her to the one of the chairs outside the store.

She pouted.

Once he had her sitting, he used his fingers to pull the corners of her mouth. "It won't take awhile." He promised then went to finishing the job.

They had lunch delivered to them and by 3 o'clock in the afternoon, the job was done. By the time they were driving back home, she was starting to feel better. The headache had subsided.

The minute they arrived home, she ran up the stairs, passing Joe on his way down.

"Just made the rounds and everything's locked up safe and tight." He assured her.

Derrick headed for the kitchen to grab a cool drink.

Massie rushed to get ready. She wasn't going to make the same mistake thrice and come out of the bathroom, wearing nothing but an ugly, old, ragged robe, and so she gathered up everything she would need, including her sling-back shoes.

Twenty-five minutes later, she decided she was as good as she was going to get. She wore a white with black flower prints tube casual dress which ended just above her knees. It was perfect and beautiful and elegant yet casual, too. It was her favorite dress.

Massie stood in front of the mirror, primping. She even curled her hair but because she was so out of practice, she burned her hand in the process. She stared at her reflection and groaned. Derrick Harrington was definitely not worthy to primp for. Definitely not.

She recognized the lie as soon as it crossed her mind. Who was she kidding? She was already in love with him. There were so many things about him that drew her to him. He was caring, cautious, protective, adorably possessive and safe to be with. And most especially, he made her feel beautiful and special.

Her ego took a real beating when Derrick entered the room. He barely noticed her. After giving her one quick once-over ─ probably making sure if she had shoes on ─ he told her Pete was on the phone, and when Joe finished talking to him, Pete wanted to speak to her. Derrick's voice sounded strained and she wondered why he was preoccupied.

He was looking over her head. "Nothing important." He said. "He just wants to hear how you're doing."

Derrick got a whiff of her perfume as he passed her on his way to the bathroom. He pretended not to notice, just as he'd pretended not to notice how incredibly sexy she looked in that tight white dress. UUntil he closed the door. Then he leaned against it, bowed his head, and whispered, "Damn, am I in trouble."

**There. Haha. Looks like Derrick couldn't ignore her for more than five seconds. Pity. **

**Anyways, there were a lot of suggestions that you people gave. And since I've already planned how this story will go, I'll try squeezing some of your requests. :))**

**Review?**


	18. Chapter 17

**I know some of you told me in your reviews that the previous chapter didn't have the exciting entrance the other chapters had. I believe so, too. Anyway, thank you for that obersvation. I appreciate it. That's what we call constructive criticism. :))**

**Btw, I wanna greet smilez014 a big Happy Birthday! That girl's one of the best writers here in . Happy Birthday! This chapter is dedicated to you. :))**

**I own nothing.**

Chapter 17

The picnic was in full swing by the time Derrick and Massie arrived. He could hear the band playing as he took Massie's hand and walked across the dirt road toward the crowd gathered around the bandstand and the picnic tables. The hill beyond the flat area was littered with colorful blankets, and from the distance it looked like a patchwork quilt. Chicken running wild, ducking in and out between couples dancing to the music of The Beattles. The aroma of smoking barbecue hung heavily in the air.

She found a vacant spot under a gnarled tree and spread the blanket out there.

Derrick didn't like the size of the crowd. It appeared that most of the town had turned up for the affair. It was twilight now and someone had plugged in the Christmas lights that had been strung from tree to tree surrounding the wooden bandstand.

"Isn't the band great?" she asked.

"Uh-huh." He replied, not entirely listening to her.

"Herman and Harley Winston started the band." She explained. "Herman's the one with the sax while Harley's with the drums. They're the twins I told you about who're doing the remodeling of my store. They're so sweet. You should meet them."

He turned to the bandstand and smiled. There were six members in the band and all of them appeared like they were in their seventies. The twins were identical and both wore red checkered plaids and white pants.

"They're old." Derrick remarked.

"But they're young at heart." She countered.

The bandleader, a bald gentleman with a toothy smile, sparkling eyes and terribly stooped shoulders, thumped on the microphone to get everyone's attention.

"Ladies and gentleman, as you all know, this picnic here is the celebration for the town's 100th anniversary. The abbot expects you to have a fine time tonight." He added. "As you know, me and the boys only know how to play old songs. We just love to take requests so if you got a special gal you want to impress, come on up and write the name of the song on a piece of paper and stick it in that hat over there on that card table. We got plenty of pencils and paper. We'll be drawing the requests out of the hat till we have to shut down. Now the first song is going out to Cindy Mitchell and her husband, Dan. This is Cindy's first outing since she had that gallbladder taken out, and it's really good to see her up and about. Now, come on, Dan. Bring Cindy to the dance floor. This is one of my favorite songs." He added as he stepped back and lifted his hands like symphony conductor. Tapping his foot, he counted, "One, two, three. Hit it, boys."

Silence followed that command. The bandleader turned around to find out what's wrong then he laughed. Speaking into the microphone, he announced, "I guess I ought to tell the boys what we're playing. It's 'Misty'. Now let's try it again."

Derrick didn't like the idea of Massie being in such a large crowd. He knew the picnic was a good idea to goad the unsub but he was having trouble with it. The crowd could swallow her up and he didn't want her out of his sight, not for one second.

Her friends made his job even more difficult. As soon as they spotted her, they wanted to pull her away from him. They were, of course, very curious about him. Several men came up to shake his hand and introduce themselves. They were open and friendly and they tried to draw him into their group of friends around the beer kegs while Massie was being tugged to the other direction. To keep her close, Derrick anchored his arm around her waist and held tight. He wouldn't let her budge.

She didn't put up with his behavior for long. Leaning up on tiptoes, she whispered into his ear, "You're going to have to let me talk to my friends and neighbors."

"Don't disappear on me." He whispered back.

"I won't." She promised. To express her gratitude, she kissed him on the cheek. It was a soft, friendly peck that held no other meaning. "Now please smile, Derrick. This is a party, not a funeral."

Someone called her name and Derrick reluctantly let her go. She hadn't even taken five steps away from him when she was suddenly surrounded by women. They were all talking at once and he was pretty sure they were talking about him because they kept glancing at him. He put his hands in his front pockets and kept his gaze locked on Massie. She had the most magnificent smile.

"So, who's the hottie?" Kristen Gregory, a tall, shapely blond who coached the high school soccer team, asked, darting a glance towards Derrick's direction.

Before she could answer Kristen's question, Dylan came to her aid. "His name is Derrick Harrington. He works for the FBI. Mother told me he was pleasing to look at. Now, I'm thinking she lied." She paused dramatically to glance at Derrick and to giggle. "The mere sight of him makes me wet." She whispered just for their group to hear.

The girls gasped loudly and covered their giggles with their hand.

Massie glared at them.

"Is he single?" Dylan asked, openly wiggling her eyebrows at Derrick who returned her gesture with his signature, panty-dropping grin.

Massie gasped again. "Dylan, how could you?" She whispered harshly. "You're married, for God's sake."

Dylan had the gall to raise an eyebrow. "Chris and I have been married for only a year, Massie. Surely, it's not too late to change…courses." She giggled then.

"But you're pregnant!"

Dylan smiled. "I know."

"Then, w-why…" Massie stammered. Her friend was married and pregnant and everyone knew she and Chris Plovert were head over heels for each other. Now, why in hell was Dylan openly flirting with her man?

Whoa. Where did that come from? Did she just call Derrick _her _man?

Her friends enjoyed the play of emotions on Massie's face. They were simply teasing the truth out of her because they knew Massie was too stubborn to admit that she was in love with the man. One didn't have to be an expert to know that. By the looks she and Derrick were throwing each other, yes, they cared for each other. More than they knew.

"What has you riled, Mass?" Layne Abeley asked with a straight face.

"Nothing." Massie snapped.

Layne, Dylan and Kristen shared a look that meant they didn't believe her.

Kristen took pity on Massie. She placed a hand on Massie's arm. "Mass, Dylan was teasing you."

Massie stared at her before she glared at Dylan. "And why would you do that?"

Dylan shrugged innocently.

"I'm single." Layne announced.

Massie turned to her. "So?"

"Is he?" She asked, jerking her chin towards Derrick.

She scowled at her. "He's taken."

Layne grinned at her. "And were you the one who took him?"

"Shut up, Layne." Massie murmured.

Massie's friends laughed.

"Oh, honey, you've got it bad." Dylan remarked, patting Massie's back.

She pretended she didn't know what she meant. "I've got what bad?"

"Your feelings for Derrick." Kristen answered.

Massie didn't agree or disagree. "Let's just not talk about it, alright?" With that, she left her friends staring after her with pitiful yet amused expressions.

From afar, Derrick stared at Massie thread her way through the crowd. As he watched her mingle with both the young and the old, he realized how vital she was to the community. She was also loved. The townspeople could obviously see what a gentle and caring woman she was. They responded to her the same way he did, by getting closer to her. He could tell that she was genuinely interested in what they were saying. She made people feel good and what a hell of a gift it was.

Derrick was smiling as he watched her but the smile vanished when she was stopped yet again by two men about her age. From the way they were drooling, he knew they weren't put off by her reputation. He felt a surprising burst of jealousy. Then one of them put his arm around her and Derrick wanted to punch him. He knew his response was totally inappropriate. It wasn't like him to be possessive.

Suddenly, Massie caught Derrick's eye. She smiled tauntingly at him and winked while listening to what the two men were saying. She tossed her head back and laughed. The two clueless men were delighted at the sound of her musical laughter. She whispered something to the man who had his arms around her. Derrick watched with his hands balled into fists at his sides as the man's eyes widened and he removed his arm around Massie, taking a step back. He said something to his friend before they staggered away.

Massie chuckled and turned to Derrick. She winked at him again before she turned and walked away, leaving Derrick to stare at the gentle sway of her hips.

Like a love struck teenager, he wanted to run after her.

He was about to do that when he heard someone call his name.

"Are you Derrick Harrington?"

Derrick turned and found three men standing before him. "That's me all right."

"My name's Cam Fisher." The blond man with blue and green eyes said, shaking his hand. "Massie's my fiancé's best friend. Mine, too." He added. "I just wanted to come up and say hello."

Cam was a likeable, easygoing man. He was built like a linebacker. He was as tall as Derrick but outweighed him by twenty pounds.

After they exchanged small talk, Cam admitted, "Claire sent me over to get as much information as I could. She thinks that because I'm a lawyer I could intimidate anyone."

Derrick laughed. "What exactly does she want to know?"

"Oh, the usual stuff, how much you make, where you live, are the rumors true about you and Massie, and most important, if you'll always be there for her. You might get the impression that Claire's nosy but she's not. She's just looking out for Massie." Cam explained.

They both turned to watch Massie. There were men standing in line to take turns dancing with her. She was currently dancing with donut boy in the middle of the dance floor.

Derrick answered as many questions as he could and hedged on others.

When Cam was satisfied, he remarked, "Massie's an important part of this town. People depend on her. She and Claire are like sisters." He added. "They bring out the devil in each other, and, man, do they love to laugh."

Derrick was wondering when he was going to get his turn dancing with Massie. He sure as certain wasn't going to get in line.

Cam seemed to read his mind. "Why don't you go get Massie? The food's going to disappear fast."

"Good idea." Derrick agreed.

He shouldered his way through the crowd. He tapped donut boy on the shoulder and pulled Massie in his arms. "I'm cutting in, kid."

Massie softened the teenager's disappointment. Leaning to the side, she asked him to save her a dance for later.

"You're only encouraging him." Derrick told her.

"He's a sweet boy." She said.

He didn't want to talk about the kid. He pulled her closer and continued to dance.

"You look nice." Derrick complimented.

She laughed. "So do you."

"I like that thing you're wearing."

"That _thing_ is called a dress. A Sunday dress to be exact and thank you. I'm glad you like it."

"Tell me something. What did you tell those two perverts earlier?"

Massie knew exactly what he was asking. "Oh, those two?" She jerked her head towards the two men watching them so closely by the bandstand. "You know. This and that." She teased, glancing up to meet his eyes.

Derrick caught his breath. Dear God, her eyes were so beautiful. There was an evident sparkle in them. He wondered what the hell she found so amusing.

He gulped. "What this and that exactly?"

Massie removed one of her hand that was wrapped around Derrick's neck and used one of her fingers to stroke Derrick's chest. She smiled with smug satisfaction when she heard his indrawn breath and felt his muscles tighten. "I lied to them." She said.

"Yeah?" Derrick sounded distracted. That made her smile widen.

She leaned up and whispered at his ear. "I told them I was dating a cop."

Derrick snapped out of his stupor. He flattened the distracting finger stroking his chest with his hand and pulled her closer to him until their faces were only inches apart. "You're dating a_ cop_?" He didn't mean to shout but, damn, the thought of Massie dating other people was unbearable.

"I was talking about you, you prick." Massie retorted. Now, her mood was ruined. "Bessie Jean and Vivian are waving at us. They want us to sit with them." She was thankful for the interruption. She was suddenly embarrassed at her absurd behavior. Seducing Derrick was totally out of the question. The man wasn't cooperating!

She was about to turn to the tables but Derrick wasn't letting her get away. Massie sighed, lowered her head, and waited for him to speak.

"You're dating me?"

He sounded amused. She dared to glance up. Derrick's smile was filled with tenderness. Oh, God, how she loved the man. She thought about professing her love then and there but thought better.

"I told you I was just lying so that they'll leave me alone." She explained. "They've been following me since we arrived. They're new in town and I guess they haven't heard about my… reputation of scaring men."

There was more to what she was saying, Derrick knew. "What did they tell you?" He deliberately kept his tone mild.

She sighed again, defeated. "They asked me if I wanted to keep them company tonight." When she felt him go rigid, she hastily added, "But I just laughed at them. They didn't get it, of course. They thought I was accepting their… invitation. So I whispered to one of them that I was dating a cop. Then they left." She ended her explanation with a shrug.

"Maybe I should go there and give them a big, warm welcome." Derrick said but Massie grabbed his arm and literally dragged him to the tables. He was so amused by her behavior that he didn't bother to pull away.

Massie grabbed two plates, handed Derrick one and together, they headed for the hamburgers.

After they had filled their plates with salads and chips at the buffet table, they joined the Vandermans. The sisters were sitting with three men who were temporarily living at the house across the street. They had their backs to them so Massie and Derrick didn't see their faces until they sat on the bench beside the sisters.

Vivian was about to make the introductions when one of them looked up from his food.

Massie gasped. "You?"

"You?" Derrick snarled at the same time.

"You have met Justin?" Vivian asked Massie and Derrick.

Massie nodded and explained the incident earlier with Justin's help and Derrick's scowls.

"I really am sorry, Miss Block." Justin said in a soft voice Massie liked. "I hope I didn't cause you damage."

Massie waved her hand dismissively. "Don't worry. I'm fine."

After Massie convinced Justin that she really was alright, Vivian went on with the introductions.

She added information she gleaned from the weary-looking workmen. Two of them, Mark Hanover and Willie Lakeman, owned farms in northern Philadelphia and were supplementing their incomes with carpenter jobs. Justin Brady had purchased his uncle's land in Atlanta and was diligently paying mortgage as soon as possible by picking up extra work. All three men were in their early thirties and all were wearing wedding rings. The calluses on their hands proved they were hard workers, and the empty cups lined up in front of them proved that they were hard drinkers. Derrick leaned his elbows on the table and listened to the three men describing the work of the abbey, all the while sizing them up.

Mark had no children because her wife died last year three months after their wedding.

Willie pulled out his wallet and showed off his family. Justin wasn't going to be outdone. He carefully removed the photo of his wife and handed it to Bessie Jean.

"Her name's Kathy." He said, pride radiating in his voice. "She's due to have out first baby August first or thereabouts."

"Are you expecting a boy or a girl?" Massie asked.

Justin smiled. "Kathy and I decided we didn't want to know. We want to be surprised." Glancing over his shoulder at the bandstand, he said, "Kathy loves to dance. I sure do wish she could be here."

"We're all putting in fourteen-hour days." Mark said.

"It's good money, so none of us mind." Justine interjected.

Derrick devoured two hamburgers while he listened to the conversation.

One of the high school boys tapped Massie on the shoulder and asked her to dance. She graciously accepted before Derrick could come up with a reason to object. On the way to the dance floor, Massie glanced back and stuck her tongue out at him. He laughed, followed them to the edge of the dance floor, and stood there with his arms folded across his chest, watching.

The band was playing and old Elvis Presley song. Massie swayed to the music while her enthusiastic dance partner gyrated wildly in a circle around her. She had to duck his elbow a couple of times because the kid's arms and legs were going every which way. Derrick thought he looked like an extra in a bad karate movie, and he knew Massie was having trouble maintaining a straight face. Other couples were giving the kid a lot of room, probably so they wouldn't get kicked.

For the next hour she was dragged onto the dance floor again and again as the bandleader called out requested songs. When Massie's wasn't dancing, she helped clean up and she was constantly stopped by men and women and children, as well. She moved through the crowd with ease and comfort he envied.

Massie was dancing with Justin now and was laughing at whatever he was saying. Once the song ended, Derrick spotted a man his age make his way to Massie. Derrick decided she had done enough dancing for the night. He got to her first, pulled her in his arms and tucked her head under his chin.

"Have you been telling people what the experts are saying about your stalker?" Derrick reminded her.

She nodded against his chin, then put her head down his shoulder and closed her eyes.

"I've said it so many ways, I've run out of adjectives. I've called him stupid and sloppy and I've told them that the FBI's convinced he has a very low IQ, that he's to be pitied because he's so dysfunctional. You name it, Derrick. I've said it."

He smiled. "That's my girl." He murmured. "I met Cam. He's a nice guy. I liked him."

"I haven't seen Claire yet. Uh-oh. Here comes Steve Brenner."

"You won't be dancing with him."

"I don't want to dance with him."

The song ended. As Derrick and Massie were leaving, they were intercepted by Brenner.

Derrick sized him up with just one look. The man was all about control. The way he moved and the way he dressed were giveaways. The man's appearance was extremely important to him. His Ralph Lauren shirt and pants were crisply pressed and there wasn't a hair out of place. As Derrick shook his hand, he noticed that Brenner was sporting a gold Rolex watch.

Brenner touched Massie's shoulder sympathetically. "Massie, I want you to know how sorry I am about that article Olivia wrote. I was embarrassed when I read the nonsense about the two of us. I have no idea where she got that idea from and I hope it didn't cause you any distress."

"No, it didn't." She answered.

He grinned. "Olivia told me that you and Derrick are dating or was that another fabrication?"

Before Derrick could interrupt, she said, "She got that right. Derrick and I are dating. We're even thinking about getting married. Isn't that right, sweetheart?" She glanced at Derrick squeezed his hand to apologize to him for lying. He squeezed her hand back.

"Yes, it is, honey." Derrick confirmed.

"Well, I'll be damned." Steve said cheerfully. "Congratulations to both of you. You're getting a good woman." He told Derrick. Glancing at the table, he said, "I guess I ought to get some burgers before they vanish. Congratulations again."

Derrick kept his eye on Brenner as he walked away.

"What do you think of him?" She asked.

"He's got a lot of anger pent up inside him." He said,

"How could you tell?"

"When he was congratulating us, his hands were fisted."

"I'm making his life miserable now. He was probably clenching his fists to keep from wringing my neck."

"You're single-handedly blocking his plans."

"Is he a suspect?"

"Everyone is." He said. "So, when's the wedding date?" He teased.

She elbowed him.

He snickered. "Come on." He said. "Let's go sit on the blanket and make out like teenagers."

The suggestion made her laugh. Several men and women turned and smiled at the happy couple.

"Sounds like a plan." She said. "But I don't think the abbot would approve."

"There you are. I've been looking everywhere for you."

Claire was hurrying across the grass. Her fiancé, Cam, was holding her hand and grinning from ear to ear.

Claire was a beautiful woman. Petite, with delicate features, and she had long blond hair that framed her heart-shaped face. She had a killer smile that demanded a response.

Massie's friend wore a metal brace on her right leg, and when she tried to sit down at the picnic table, she winced in pain. Cam was telling Derrick a joke he'd just heard as he swept Claire into his arms and then sat down with her in his lap.

"I'm still limping." She told Massie.

"But barely." Massie insisted.

"You think so?"

"Oh, yes. I noticed the difference."

"I shattered my knee in a car accident." Claire explained to Derrick. "I shouldn't be able to walk but I beat the odds."

"Claire knows all about percentages." Cam said. "She has degrees in mathematics and accounting and she's going to get CPA after we get married."

"I'm keeping Massie's books for her store." Claire added.

"Shouldn't we get an introduction, too?"

Dylan, Layne, and Kristen suddenly appeared behind them. Dylan was holding his husband, Chris's hand while Layne stood between them and Kristen. Kristen's younger sister, Katherine, who was seven, was peeking out behind her.

Claire rolled her eyes. "Of course." She turned to Derrick then. "Derrick, these are our friends, Dylan and his husband, Chris, Layne and Kristen ─" And she added with a smile, "─ and that beautiful young lady who should not be hiding behind Kristen is Katherine."

When Claire was about to introduce Derrick to everyone, Layne cut her off. "Oh, we know who Mr. Derrick Harrington is already." They giggled.

Derrick felt someone tugging his pants. He looked away from Claire who was recounting one incident when they were in high school. He found Katherine smiling up at him.

He leaned closer to the child. "How old are you?" He asked.

"Seven." She answered, poked his lap and opened her arms wide with an expectant smile.

Derrick knew what the kid wanted and he lifted her high and placed her on his lap. The child giggled and squealed. "I'm gonna be eight on the 15th. Kristen said she's gonna throw me a big party." She made a big circle in the air using her hands.

"Are you going to school, then?" He asked.

She giggled. "Yes." And continued to stare at Derrick's face.

He waited for her to say something while he listened to the conversation the adults were having when suddenly, Katherine jumped off of his lap and ran to Kristen. She tugged on the hem of her skirt.

Kristen glanced down at her younger sister and scooped her in her arms. "What now?"

Everyone watched as Katherine whispered at Kristen's ear and dropped herself afterwards. She once again hid behind Kristen, constantly peeking from her side.

Kristen laughed so hard until tears were coming out from the corners of her eyes. Turning to Derrick, she said, "My sister seems to think she wants to marry you."

No one dared to laugh, thinking not to injure the child's tender feelings. They smiled though. Chris and Cam coughed to hide their laughter.

"Come here, Katherine." Derrick said in a tender, loving voice the women found charming.

Katherine pried herself away from her sister and shyly walked to stand in front of Derrick. Derrick smiled and leaned close to her ear.

Everyone waited for him to finish whispering. When he did, Katherine was smiling. She ran back to Kristen and whispered what her new friend told her.

Kristen laughed once again. "She said she can't marry Derrick because Massie would be angry with her."

Massie was taken aback. "And why do you think I'd be angry, Katherine?" She asked.

Katherine giggled. "Because you're marrying him."

Massie instantly blushed while the whole group laughed their asses off.

The bandleader caught everyone's attention when he tapped the microphone and announced that the next song would be the last for the evening.

"We've got to dance, honey." Cam told Claire.

"And so do we." Derrick said. He stopped to kiss Katherine's cheek. The kid blushed and ran away to the trees delighted. As he was pulling Massie to the center of the dance floor, he said, "I like your friends."

"They like you." Massie said.

The bandleader opened the piece of paper and smiled. "Ah, now folks, this here is a slow one, and it's one of my favorites." He announced. "And so is the young lady it's dedicated to. It's for our own sweet Massie Block and it's from Secret Admirer."

Derrick had just taken Massie into his arms when the bandleader made the announcement. He heard her drawn-in breath and felt her stiffen. He pulled her close, an instinctive response to danger.

He saw a man separate himself from the crowd and came forward from the opposite direction. Derrick knew at once he was an agent. Damn, no one of them knew who they were looking for, and the crowd was watching them, surrounding them, smiling because the song was for Massie.

"Son of a bitch." He muttered.

"Derrick, what do we do?" She whispered in a shaky voice.

"We dance." He said in a composed voice.

Massie felt as though the world was closing in on her. She couldn't catch her breath, couldn't think. She tucked her head under his chin and closed her eyes.

_He wants me to know he's here, that he's watching. Oh, God, make him leave me alone. Please God…_

"Now, folks, grab your partner 'cause like I said this is our last request. The name of the song is 'I Only Eyes for You'."

**Next chapter will be about our favorite murderer. HAHA! **

**Review, alright?**


	19. Chapter 18

**One thing to clarify: In my story, Westchester is a small town in the southern part of Philadelphia. It has a rich history and had played an important role in the World War II. People here put utmost importance in their history therefore, amidst modernization, they try to preserve the old ways as much as possible. So that may explain the southern-ish ways. I hope I've answered your question, _moniiiicaX3 ()._**

**it'll cause you your sanity. Haha! :DD **

**This chapter is really short. I mean, _really short_. And as promised, it's about our killer. So, here goes.  
**

**I own nothing.  
**

Chapter 18

He stood in the crowd and watched, the intoxication building to a feverish pitch inside him. Massie, his sweet Massie. She mesmerized him. So lovely, so untouchable. For now.

_Soon, my love. Soon you will be mine._

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw the mule walking towards her. He smiled then. He had snapped his fingers, and they had come. He was the spider now, and they were caught in his web.

He couldn't take his eyes off the mule. He watched him cross the grass and pull Massie into his arms. It was all a game. Oh, yes, he knew what they were doing. Trying to upset him as though he were a simpleton.

And still he couldn't turn away. They were dancing and he didn't like the way the mule was holding her. It was too close… to intimate. He was blatantly staring at them now, studying them, and he could see the way Massie was looking at the mule. He jerked back against the bench.

She loved him.

It was as plain as day to someone as astute as he was. She couldn't hide it, not from him.

Amber-eyed girl had fallen in love with the mule. Lordy, lordy, what was he going to do about that?

She was ruining his good time. When the last song was announced and that it was for Massie, he'd felt flushed and dizzy. The joy and the rage were almost more than he could bear. And while he stood there in plain sight and watched his prey on the dance floor, smiling and laughing and acting like they were having a mighty fine time, he knew that there must be mules rushing through the crowd searching for him. Fools, all of them. They didn't know what he looked like, or who he was, so how were they expecting to find him? Did they think he was going to pull out a gun and point it to himself? He laughed just thinking about it. Priceless, he thought. Their stupidity was truly priceless.

Vengeance is mine sayeth the Lord. Was Massie and Derrick thinking about vengeance now? Of course they were and it amused him.

My, oh, my, he hadn't had this much fun in a long, long time. And it was only going to get better, as long as he kept his anger reined in, controlled it, soothed the beast with promised of the havoc to come. How dare they think they could outwit him? Ignorant mules, all of them.

Still, caution was called for now. Bide his time, that was the ticket. He certainly wasn't afraid or even worried about the mules. He had invited the FBI boys to Westchester, now hadn't he? But he so wanted to be a gracious host, a regular Martha Stewart, if you will, and so he needed to know the exact number he would be entertaining. There had to be enough refreshments to go around. Did he bring enough C-4 with him? He thought about it for a moment and smiled. Why, yes, as a matter of fact, he did.

He was always prepared.

His goal was to eliminate as many of the mules as he could, as long as it didn't interfere with his primary objective. The target. Get the target and have a little old-fashioned fun at the same time while he proved to the world he was The Superior Being. None of the FBI boys were a match for him. And soon now, very soon, when it was too late and they couldn't run and hide, they would realize it. He would take care of his unfinished business and at the same time let The world mock them all on national television. Prime time. KABOOM. Yes, siree.

**I've got a surprise ready for everyone in the next chapter. By surprise, I mean a big big surprise. Haha! I could tell you now but where's the excitement in that? So, y'all have to beat the crap out of me before I blurt it out which I most certainly won't. Haha!**

**Even though I'm so mean and wicked, review, alright? :)))  
**


	20. Chapter 19

**Sorry for the late update. I lost my flash drive and I spent two days looking for it. Haha. Ya wanna know where I found it? Under the freakin' refrigerator. I was ready to cry when my brother found it there. Instead, I laughed and laughed. :))**

**Anyway, thanks for the amazing reviews. I'm not revealing the unsub's intentions. Yet. Let's just leave it to him to do the revealing. **

**Answer/s to your question/s:**

_**artimisluna – **_**Derrick doesn't want to have kids because of his job. You see, the division Derrick's works in deals with finding missing children. The team under Pete Morganstern's guidance is unique. Each man possesses unusual skills in tracking missing children. They're called the Apostles considering the fact that there are only 12 agents in that division. The twelve men are hunters who race against the clock with but one sacred goal and that is to find and protect before it's too late. They're every child's bodyguard. So, you see, that's why he doesn't want a permanent relationship or to have children. His work affects his personal life and his mind. He doesn't want to marry someone only to leave that person widowed or screwing around behind his back because he's usually away in mission. He doesn't want to marry and have kids only to have them hate him to the point that they want to run away because he'll go overprotective and overcautious with them. See, his work affects his life too much. Hope that answered your question.**

**Without further ado, here's the surprise……..you've all been waiting for. *wink***

**I own nothing.**

Chapter 19

Lunch the next day was uneventful until the doorbell rang, interrupting their silent meal.

Derrick stood up before Massie did. "I'll get it."

Massie sunk back against the chair and continued to play with her untouched mac and cheese.

Joe noticed she had been acting peculiar ever since she woke up. "You alright?" he asked nonchalantly.

"I'm fine." She snapped.

"Alright." Joe said, surprised by her burst of anger. "I was just asking."

Realizing what she had done, Massie put her hand to her brow. "Look, I'm sorry I snapped at you. It's just… after what happened at the picnic… he was there, Joe. And he wanted me to know he was watching me. 'I Only Have Eyes for You'. That was the song he requested. Cute, huh?"

"I heard all about it." Joe said and before he thought about it, he blurted out what he was thinking, "You've got to stay strong."

She picked up her fork again. "You don't have to worry about me."

Easier said than done, he thought.

Derrick returned after a few seconds, carrying a vase filled with a dozen of red roses. One look at it, Massie already knew who it was from.

She groaned.

"They were delivered." He said then read the card out loud. "Please forgive me and come home. Love, Landon." He placed the vase on the dining table and

"It seems such a waste throwing them out." She said. "But that's what I usually do. I don't want to be reminded of Landon Crane every time I walk through this room."

"How often does this creep send you flowers?" Derrick asked, trying not to let his irritation show.

"About once a week." She answered. "He won't give up."

"Yeah? We'll see about that." He picked up the vase, went into the kitchen, and emptied the water in the sink, then dropped the vase and the roses in the trash can. "He's a tenacious bastard, isn't he?"

"Crane's the man in New York who was doing his secretary while he was chasing after you, right?" Joe asked bluntly.

His frank assessment didn't faze her. "Yes, he's the one."

"I'd say he's having a problem letting go." Joe remarked. "But don't worry. Derrick will take care of him."

"No, he won't take care of him." She countered, a bit more sharply than she'd intended. "Landon Crane is my problem and I'll deal with him."

"Okay." Joe said, surprised by the burst of anger. "Whatever you decide is fine with me."

"I'm ignoring him."

"That doesn't seem to be working." He pointed out.

"Let him spend his money on flowers. I don't care. Can we please not talk about it?" Massie begged.

Joe decided to cut her some slack. "Yes, sure." When Massie stood up and picked up her plate to place it on the sink, he hastily added, "Um, I'll do them."

"You sure?"

Joe nodded.

Massie smiled gratefully before walking out of the room without sparing Derrick a glance.

Worrying about a deranged psycho maniac stalking her and wanting her dead didn't stray her mind away from him. She couldn't stop thinking about how gentle he held her last night at the picnic when she needed comfort the most or how he kept telling her he'll never let anything hurt her or murmuring soft, sweet, soothing words to her throughout the night. And she definitely didn't think the warm glint she saw in his eyes when they were dancing so closely, so intimately with each other.

"Get a grip of yourself, girl!" She muttered under her breath as she barged inside her room, all but ripping the damn door from its frame.

She was too tense and depressed to sit down and relax. Washing her car would keep her away from her thoughts for a couple while, she thought, and quickly changed into a pair of denim shorts, a purple tank top and a white flip flops. She made her way downstairs towards the kitchen, told Joe what she was about to do and went out through the back door to get the things she needed from the small cabin where she kept her tools.

After gathering her chamois cloths, pail, special car-washing soap that wouldn't make the paint job lose its luster, wax and window cleaner, she dragged them to the driveway where her car was settled right in front of Derrick's. She made a mental note to be really careful not spray some water to his dear car.

She settled down to industriously washing and rinsing, one section at a time, so the soap didn't have time to dry and cause spots. This particular soap wasn't supposed to stop, but she didn't trust it. While she lived in Westchester, she wasn't given any special treatments from her grandparents or from the town folks because she came from a hotel tycoon family. She had to do chores, had curfews and had punishments whenever she did something wrong. And was expected to wash her car. Her grandfather taught her how to wash a car and she had never found a better method.

"Hey."

"Shit!" She shrieked, jumping a foot in the air and dropping her sloppy cloth. Her heart nearly exploded out of her chest. She whirled around, water hose in hand.

Derrick jumped back as water sprayed across his legs. "Watch what the hell you're doing." He snapped.

Massie was instantly incensed. "Okay." She said agreeably and let him have it full in the face.

He yelped and dodged to the side. She stood braced, water hose in hand, watching as he rubbed a hand across his dripping face. The first water attack, accidental as it had been, had wet his jeans from the knees down. The second one had pretty much taken care of his T-shirt. The front of it was soaking wet, sticking to his skin like plaster. She tried not to notice the hard planes of his chest.

They face each other like gunfighters, separated by no more than ten feet. "Are you damn crazy?" He half-shouted.

She let him have it again. She sprayed with a vengeance, chasing him with the stream of water as he tried to dodge and dance out of its way.

"Don't tell me I'm crazy!" She shouted, putting her finger over the nozzle to narrow the opening and thus get more force and distance.

Derrick abruptly switched tactics, from evade to attack. He came in low, like a linebacker, not trying to evade the blast of water she aimed at him. About half a second too late, she tried to dodge to the side. His shoulder crashed into her midriff, the impact driving her back against the Mustang. Quick as a snake striking, he snatched the water hose from her grip. She lunged for the hose, and he wrestled her back into place, pinning her to the Mustang with his weight.

They were both breathing hard. He was soaking wet from head to toe, water leaching out of his clothes into hers until she was almost as wet as he was. She glared up at him, and he glared down at her, their noses only inches apart.

Water was clinging to his lashes. "You sprayed me." He accused, as if he couldn't believe she had done such a thing.

"You startled me." She accused in return. "It was an accident."

"That was when you sprayed me the first time. You did it on purpose the second time."

She nodded. "But you deliberately scared me and don't even try to deny it. That makes it your fault." She gave an experimental wiggle, trying to slide out from under the pressure of his weight. Damn, he was heavy, and about as unyielding as the sheet metal behind her.

He squelched her escape attempt by settling even more heavily against her. Water from his clothes dripped down her legs.

"I didn't deliberately scare you." He counter-shouted.

"No, you did." She argued. "You perfectly knew I wasn't paying any attention so you took your opportunity and sneaked up on me. I don't know what you call that from your planet but from where I'm from which is here, we call it deliberate." She stated triumphantly, tilting her chin at him.

He took a deep breath. The movement of his chest flattened her breasts even more than they already were, making her abruptly aware of her nipples. Her nipples were acutely aware of _him_. Uh-oh. Her eyes widened in sudden alarm.

He was looking down at her with an unreadable expression.

"Let me go." She said, more nervous than she cared to reveal.

"No."

"No!" She repeated. "You can't say no. It's against the law to hold me against my will."

"I'm not holding you against your will; I'm holding you against your car."

"By force!"

He shrugged an admission. He didn't seem very alarmed at the prospect of violating any laws against manhandling others.

"Let me go." She said again.

"I can't."

She eyed him suspiciously. "Why not?" Actually she was afraid she knew why not. "Why not" had been growing in his wet jeans for a few minutes now. She was doing her dead level best to ignore it, and from the waist up ─ except for her rebellious nipples ─ she was mostly succeeding. From the waist down, she was an abject failure.

He took a deep breath. "I have two choices." He said, trying to sound nonchalant. "I can either strangle you or kiss you. Which one do you want?"

Alarmed at the prospect that might kiss her, she said. "Those are your choices, not mine."

"Then you shouldn't have worn that thin tank top."

"What the hell's wrong with my ─ _uummph_."

The afternoon spun away. From somewhere up the street she heard a child shriek with laughter. A car drove by. The faint sound of hedge clippers drifted to her ears. All of that seemed very far away and disconnected from reality. What was real was Derrick's mouth on hers, his tongue tangling with hers, the warm male scent of his body in her nostrils and filling her lungs. And his taste ─ dear, Lord, his taste. He tasted like chocolate as if he just ate a bar of Hersheys. She wanted to devour him.

His hand was pressed against her spine, bringing her up close against him, while his other hand held the hose still running hose down securely.

She slowly went limp, held upright only by the pressure of his body all along hers. Vaguely she was aware that nothing in her life had ever felt so good, or as comfortable. It shouldn't have been comfortable, not with the cold metal of the car behind her or the fact that they were now dripping wet and that their clothes were literally clinging to their bodies but she lifted her arms and twined them around his neck, and her body fit to his as if they had been custom-made to go together. Curves and mounds, angles and planes ─ they fit. The heat of his body seared her all the way through, the scent of his skin permeated her, and his taste beguiled her into wanting more.

When he could feel his control slipping away, he dragged his mouth away from her. "This is wrong." He whispered, panting.

"No." She whispered back. Then she roughly tugged on his hair, pulling his head back so she could kiss him on the mouth again. When her tongue touched his, he growled low in his throat.

To hell with what's right or wrong, he thought.

He pulled her closer so that her hips cradled his pelvis.

She couldn't stop kissing him. One hand clasped around his neck and the other slipping inside the collar of his shirt to caress the back of his neck, the small touch of his bare skin making her almost dizzy with delight.

How could just a kiss arouse her so totally? But it wasn't just a kiss, he used his entire body. His hands were freely exploring her body as if she were a tourist spot he hadn't visited yet. It only made her want him more.

Massie heard the wild, smothered sound that erupted from her throat, and she tried to climb him, tried to get high enough to position herself where she knew she needed. She was burning hot, dying with need, half-mad from the sudden onslaught of sexual need and frustration.

He was still holding the water hose in one hand. He locked both hands around her and lifted her the few inches needed. The stream of water arced wildly then splashed against the car and wetting them even more. She didn't care if she looked like she just jumped, fully clothed, into a pool. Hi tongue was in her mouth and her hips where around his hips where she wanted them to be.

"Uh-hum."

They were too busy to hear Joe clear his throat from the front porch.

He cleared his throat again. When they still appeared oblivious to the world except of each other, he stuck his thumb and middle finger inside his mouth and let out a loud, shrilling whistle.

That ought to get their attention.

Upon hearing the sound, Derrick froze. He pulled his lips away from Massie's and watched as she stared at him with an attractive bemused expression on her face. She looked damn appealing it was almost a crime. Her ponytail was messy and entirely tousled, one of her spaghetti straps was handing down her shoulder, her cheeks flushed and her lips swollen from his kisses.

They continued to stare at each other while Joe waited for them to finally acknowledge his presence. Seconds ticked by as his patience grew thinner and thinner. He sighed and called out, "If you two are done mauling each other, Wesson would like to talk to you, Derrick."

Without meeting Massie's eyes, he lowered her until her feet were planted safely on the ground and disentangled her arms around his neck. "This didn't happen." He murmured to her as he handed her the water hose before he turned and stomped his way to the house.

It took several minutes for Massie to regain her composure. She stood there, gripping the water hose in her hand in a dead grip, staring at the front door where Derrick and Joe disappeared. She was wet from head to toe and was shivering from the cold the water brought. She took deep, calming breaths before she glanced at the car and finished rinsing the soap off. She didn't dare look around to check whether or not someone witnessed their very open, very warm, very, very, very friendly display. She didn't think of what people would think about her or the gossip that would haunt her in the form of Olivia Ryans. She didn't think about any of those right now.

All she thought of was Derrick's flaws.

Derrick Harrington was idiotic, bossy, mule-headed, impatient, boorish, self-absorbed, and not only difficult but impossible to get along with.

And she loved him.

Massie sighed, angled the water hose towards her face and let it splash her face.

Dylan was right. Massie Block got it bad, alright.

**So, did you enjoy it? Was it enough the wait? Was it a good first kiss? *cough* kiss *cough* HAHA!**

**Anyway, next chapter will be Claire and Cam's dinner rehearsal. Hope you can come! ;)**

**Review!**


	21. Author's Note: Please don't kill me

**Dear readers,**

**I know you're all frustrated with me because I haven't updated yet. I have a flu. I've been sick for a couple days now but I just went to the doctor yesterday. She said I have a flu. I'm really not feeling well that's why I asked my brother to write this for me. **

**I don't know when will this damn sickness understand that he/she's not welcome in my system but I just hope it'll pack his/her bags and get on a plane back to wherever the hell he/she came from. Let's hope it's soon. **

**I'm really, really sorry. But I'll make it up to everyone. When I update, I'll post two chapters. :))**

**Xoxo,**

**Samantha**


	22. Chapter 20

**Okay. So, I still have a slight fever but I can manage. And that means less spending time on my bed, sulking, and more updating time! Yay.**

**I really laughed and was really touched when I opened my mail and found that your reviewed my AN. Thanks everyone. ILYSSSM. :* Best readers and reviewers ever! **

**This chapter is dedicated to ERICKA (_xoxoDDLSG_) because she came back from a short but exasperating HIATUS and she updated _Hope This Doesn't Hurt_ which is one of my fanfics and to who is a fellow citizen of mine. **

**I own nothing.**

Chapter 20

Nobody mentioned the kiss throughout the night. They mentally claimed that it was good and forgotten. Yet they also mentally contradicted themselves.

Massie and Derrick couldn't stop thinking about it and sneaking glances at each other. They both knew that they were acting childish and immature. They also knew that the attraction that started as an innocent one between them grew into something stronger and more painful if ever things end up badly between them.

_Badly…_ Massie thought. She knew that the odds of having a relationship with Derrick were pretty low. Well, definitely low. She wanted the things he didn't want. Yes. A relationship with Derrick Harrington was definitely out of the question.

After they catch the unsub, he would go back to Boston, go back to his life full of sophistication and glamour ─ two things she had never been comfortable of ever since her mother died ─ and he'll all but forget the naïve and stupid small town girl that she was while she'll stay in Westchester, lock herself in her room and bawl her eyes out for him because she couldn't be the woman he wanted and deserved.

Nice plan.

"Massie, are you alright?"

Claire's question jarred Massie out of her thoughts. Claire was sitting across Massie in the table at one of the private rooms of the Rosebriar Restaurant. Massie was flanked by Derrick who was on her left and Dylan who was on her right. Everyone was talking, laughing and having a good time. Claire didn't notice Massie wasn't participating with the conversations until she happened to glance her way and saw her plate of untouched food.

"You haven't touched your food." Claire said when Massie didn't reply fast enough for her liking. "Are you okay, Mass?" When Massie began to say she was feeling fine, Claire briskly turned to Dylan and said,  
"Dyl, put your hand on Massie's forehead. Check if she has fever."

Claire had a real bossy streak in her. Among Massie's friend, she was the bossiest and was the most impossible to deny.

Layne also heard Claire and turned to study Massie. "You have black marks under your eye. Is he depriving you from your sleep?" Layne accused in a very loud voice while narrowing her hawk-like eyes at Derrick.

With that one question, their whole group fell silent and turned their whole attention to Massie.

Then Kristen gasped out loud. "Oh, my God! Are you pregnant?"

Before Massie could respond to that absurd accusation, Dylan answered for her. "Of course she is. Look at how pale she looks!"

"I agree." Layne said. "I admit I've observed she's gaining a bit weight."

Massie gaped at her, appalled. Claire who was silent all throughout the maddening conversation let out a giggle which she covered with a cough. Massie scowled at her then turned back to Layne.

"Don't look at me as if I grew another eye, young lady." Layne chided. "I'm just telling you what I've observed. This is a democratic country, right? I'm free to express my own thoughts."

"Oh, my God!" Kristen gasped again. "Dylan, I think we should shop for the baby's clothes tomorrow." Turning to Massie, she said in a soft voice, "Don't worry, honey. Leave the clothes to us."

"But do you know what the child is already?" Dylan asked.

"Oh, I hope it's a girl!" Layne said.

"I hope it's a boy." Kristen said.

While the women gushed and made assumptions without letting Massie interrupt, Derrick silently laughed to himself. The look on Massie's face when Kristen assumed that she was pregnant was fun to look at. But when Layne mentioned she gained weight, the look on her face was… priceless. He was smiling when Josh asked him, "Is she really pregnant?" in a hushed tone.

Derrick shook his head and mouthed a "no" to him.

"What if she has twins?" Layne asked.

Massie slammed her fist on the table. Everyone fell silent at once.

"Jesus Christ! I'm not pregnant or anything close to that. _Layne, you better shut up if you still want to go home with two feet._" Claire giggled. "Claire, I'm dead serious." She didn't notice Derrick frowning when she said dead. "Listen. How could I possibly be pregnant? Derrick and I have never had sex. Last time I checked, you have to have sex before a baby grows in you. Isn't that right, Kris? Josh, I swear if you won't stop laughing I'll cut your ─" Massie was about to say 'balls' but Claire threw her a look so she thought better. "─ legs. Anyway, I'm going to leave you for a few minutes to go to the bathroom so you better mull over the possibility of me getting pregnant without having sex. I'll be back."

Massie didn't laugh until she was out of the room. People were staring at her as she rounded the corner towards the bathroom. Inside, she leaned against the wall and laughed until tears were coming out of her eyes. She hadn't had a good laugh such as this since she was young when her grandparents were still alive. She didn't know how long she stood there alternating from laughter to giggles. Checking her watch, she learned that she had been standing there, chuckling like a madwoman, for seven minutes. She washed her hands, wiped them dry on her handkerchief and was walking out of the bathroom when she saw Derrick leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest, looking serene.

When he saw her, his expression shifted to amusement and his lips broke into his famous sexy-as-sin smile.

She lowered her head but not before he caught her blush.

"They're still arguing whether or not it's possible for you to get pregnant without having sex." He teased.

Massie blushed even more.

Derrick laughed out loud. "One second you're as fierce as a lion, threatening anyone who dares to interrupt you, and now you act timid around me." He chuckled softly. "God, you amaze me."

Massie looked up and met his eyes. What she saw in those mesmerizing, panty-dropping eyes were warmth and tenderness. Those eyes told her he won't forget the kiss.

She smiled. "Good to know."

They started walking back where the others were.

"So, what was it you wanted cut in Josh's body?" Derrick asked. She noted the laughter in his voice.

She blushed. "I don't remember everything I said." She lied.

Derrick elbowed her softly. "Liar." He chuckled.

She bumped his hip with hers and they were laughing when they rejoined the others.

"You know, I haven't seen Massie this happy since her grandma died." Cam whispered in a low voice to Claire as Derrick and Massie resumed their seats.

Claire leaned against her fiancé's side. "I know." She whispered back. "They're in love with each other."

"But they don't know it yet." Cam added.

Love really works in so many ways.

Massie and Derrick came home a little after nine. As soon as they entered the house, Derrick's phone rang. He sighed and answered the call while Massie walked to the kitchen where she heard Joe rummaging through cupboards and cabinets.

"Hey, Joe." She greeted. "I'm going to make a cup of hot tea. Would you like some?"

"Sure." He said. It felt like a 110 in the kitchen but if she wanted to make hot tea for him, he'd drink it. It also meant that something was bothering her.

He sat down, nibbling on the apple he got from the refrigerator, and watched her work. Derrick was in the back hallway, talking on his phone, his head bent, his voice too low to make out any of the conversation. Joe figured he was talking to Wesson or Morganstern.

Massie took the kettle to the sink and held it under the faucet. She stared at the fleur-de-lis painted on the white tile above the splash guard while thinking about the picnic. Again.

Derrick had finished his call and came back into the kitchen in time to hear her say, "Lonnie was there at the picnic. Claire told me so. He caused some problem so he was kicked out by the older men. He left early but he could have put that piece of paper in the hat before he was hauled away."

Derrick got a Diet Pepsi out of the fridge and popped the lid. He took a long swallow and then said, "Yeah, Lonnie could have done that but he couldn't be in the same place at one time and we know he hasn't left Holy Oaks in the last month. He was in town when the unsub struck in New York."

"When did you find that out?" Massie asked.

"I got that bit of information from Feinberg this morning."

She turned back to the sink. "So who wasn't here?"

The kettle was filled and water was now pouring down the sides. Derrick took it out of her hands, poured out half the water and then put the kettle on the stove top.

"The sheriff was out of the town." Joe told her. "And so was Steve Brenner. He told his friends he was going fishing."

Massie got out the tea bags and cups from the cupboard and put them on the table. She didn't seem to notice that Derrick was drinking a Pepsi. She was still going to make him a cup of tea. He smiled while he watched her work. The quirky habit of hers was odd but sweet.

She sat down to wait for the wait for the water to heat. Restless, she picked up the deck of cards Joe had left and began to shuffle them.

"What about the crime scene Wesson was so excited about? Shouldn't we have heard something by now?"

Joe was the one who answered. "The lab's working on the evidence they've collected. I do know the scene was contaminated."

"Contaminated? Contaminated by what?"

"Cows." He reluctantly replied.

She couldn't block the picture Joe had just evoked and whispered, "Oh, God."

"Deal the cards." He suggested, hoping to turn her attention. "We'll play gin."

"Okay." She whispered but she continued to sit there, shuffling the cards. Joe finally took them out of her hands and dealt them for her.

"I know it seems like a lot of time has passed but ─" Derrick began.

She didn't let him finish. "They won't find his fingerprints. They won't find any evidence that could lead them to him."

Derrick sat down, straddling the chair with his arms braced against the back. "Don't make him superhuman. He bleeds like the rest of us. He's going to mess up and then we'll nail him."

She picked up her cards and looked at them. "The sooner, the better, right?"

"Right."

"Okay, then why don't we make it happen sooner? I think Wesson's right. Maybe I should go running alone tomorrow and maybe I should spend the day doing errands on my own. Don't shake your head at me. He's looking for an opportunity and I think we should accommodate him. You could make sure I'm safe."

"No." He was empathic.

"Don't you think we should discuss this before you ─"

"No."

She held her temper. "I promised your brothers I wouldn't let you out of my sight and that's the way it's going to be. So don't hold your breath."

"Hey, Derrick, chill out." Joe suggested, sensing the tension between the two.

The burst of anger was short-lived. "Yeah, right." He agreed.

Massie sighed in defeat. "You're the expert. I'll let you decide what's to be done. If you don't want me to run alone, then I won't." She said.

She'd done a complete turnaround in a matter of seconds, and Derrick couldn't figure out why she was suddenly being reasonable again. "How come?" He asked suspiciously.

"I don't want to make your job any more difficult than it already is." She said.

"Now that you two are calm, I kind of hate to bring this up." Joe said. He discarded a card and picked up a new one. "'Cause I know Derrick's going to get upset again but ─"

Derrick looked at him as if he were demented. "I don't get upset. I _never _get upset. What do you want to tell me?"

"If the unsub doesn't poke his head out of the wood-pile within the next couple of days, I'm going to be reassigned."

The muscle in Derrick's jaw flexed.

"How do you know you'll be reassigned?" Massie asked Joe.

Derrick answered. "Wesson. I'm right, aren't I?"

Joe nodded. "He thinks maybe the unsub knows I'm here and if I make a big deal out of leaving, then ─"

"Give me a break." Derrick snapped.

"And I suppose if the unsub still doesn't try to grab her then Wesson will reassign the other agents so the unsub will feel more comfortable? I've got an idea. Why don't we all pack up now and leave? Massie can leave the front door open so he won't have trouble getting inside. That's pretty much Wesson's game plan, isn't it, Joe? He'll stay in Westchester, though, you can bet your ass on that."

Joe pointed at the disc to remind Derrick that Wesson could be listening in. Derrick couldn't have cared less. He wanted him to know what he thought of his methods.

Derrick unpinned the disc and held it up so he could speak directly into the microphone. "You want to be the big man to catch the unsub, don't you, Jules? At any cost. That's the plan, isn't it? It'll look great on your records and your political ambitions are far more important than Massie's safety."

Feinberg's voice responded. "Sorry to disappoint you, Derrick, but I'm monitoring the line, not Wesson, and as far as I'm concerned, you guys are talking about the weather."

The agent was doing his best to protect Derrick but the effort wasn't appreciated. Wesson couldn't hurt Derrick professionally and even if he could, Derrick wouldn't have cared. How would he feel if he got fired? Maybe relieved, he thought. Bad attitude, he decided, but he couldn't make himself care either.

Morganstern was right. Derrick needed a vacation and he needed sex. Lots and lots of sex, but not just with any woman. He wanted Massie.

"Gin." Massie smiled at Joe when she showed him her cards. He groaned.

The kettle began to hiss. Massie got up to fix the tea. She poured water into all the three cups then put the kettle back on the stove and turned to walk out of the kitchen.

"Hey, what about your tea?" Joe asked.

"I'm going upstairs now. I think I'd like to take a hot bubble bath."

Derrick gritted his teeth. Now, why in hell did she think they needed to know that? Damn. His mind went wild, and all he could think of was her lush body covered in a mist of bubbles. He wanted to follow her and dive into the tub with her. He headed to the guest room instead and took a cold shower.

Joe was watching a movie downstairs so Derrick, dressed in his jeans and his favorite old T-shirt, went into Massie's room to watch ESPN.

Theo, the eldest in the family, called to check in. He was in the mood to talk about the latest bizarre case he was prosecuting. Derrick tried to pay attention but his eyes were locked on that bathroom and x-rated images kept flashing through his mind.

"What'd you say?" Derrick asked Theo.

"Is everything okay with you?"

_Hell, no. My best friend's little sister is driving me so nuts that I want to die. _"Sure." He lied. "You know how it goes. The waiting is making me nuts."

"How come you haven't mentioned Massie? I haven't seen her in years. I'll bet she changed. What's she like?"

"She's Spencer's sister. That's what she's like." Big mistake, Derrick realized as soon as the words were out of his mouth. He'd sounded defensive and Theo's reputation for being a hardcore, top-rate prosecutor wasn't just talk. He immediately went for the jugular.

"So that's how it is."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Uh-huh."

"Nothing's going on."

"Do Aiden, Adam and Spencer know?"

"Know what?" Derrick hedged.

"That you've got the hots for their sister."

Before Derrick could answer, Theo laughed. "You're going to have to tell them."

Derrick pictured his hand going through the throat and grabbing Theo's throat. "Theo, if you know what's good for you you'll stop fishing. There's nothing to tell. Nothing. She's fine. Massie's fine. Okay?"

"Okay." Theo agreed. "Tell me something."

"What?"

"Does she still have those long legs?"

"Theo?"

"Yeah?"

"Go to hell."

**So, whadya think anout it? Good? Bad? Terrible? Great? Tell me.**

**The next following chapters probably the next 2-3 chapters will be giving us some action. As promised, I posted two chapters so you better not waste time. Go and read it now! **

**But not before you leave a review, 'kay?**


	23. Chapter 21

**I own nothing.**

Chapter 21

He came in through the back door.

He'd tried using the key he had duplicated but the bitch had obviously changed locks. Now why had she done that, he wondered. Had she found the camera? He stood on the back stoop nervously flipping the key over and over in his hand while he pondered the possibility and finally decided no, she couldn't have found it. it was too well hidden. Then he remembered how old and rusty the lock was and he assumed it was simply broken.

Fortunately, he had worn his black windbreaker and he could use it to protect his hand and break the glass. He'd put on the jacket so that he could blend into the night and couldn't be seen y the two dried-up old hags living next door to Massie. They were like cats sitting in their windows, looking out. He'd parked the car three blacks away, another precaution against her nosy neighbors and walked over to her house, making sure he stayed away from the streetlights and close to the bushes.

Twice he felt like someone was following him, and he got so spooked he considered turning around and going back home but the rage inside of him kept propelling him forward. The need to strike out was eating at him like acid, forcing him to take the calculated risk. He craved hurting her the way an alcoholic craved for a drink of whiskey. The need wouldn't leave him alone, and he knew he would take any risk to get even.

He slowly removed his jacket, carefully folded it to double the thickness, wrapped his hand inside the material, and then, imagining the glass was Massie's face, he slammed his fist through the window, exerting far more force than necessary. The glass imploded, shattering fragments into the back hallway.

The rush of adrenaline felt like an orgasm. He almost shouted God's name in vain just for the sheer thrill of it. He suddenly felt powerful and invincible. No one would touch him. No one.

He certainly wasn't concerned about being heard, for he was sure the house was empty. Derrick and Massie were at the dinner rehearsal. He'd watched them leave before he went back home to wait and then get ready. It was just after eleven and he knew they wouldn't be home until after midnight. Plenty of time, he thought, to do what he wanted and get out.

He reached in, unlocked the deadbolt, opened the door and came inside. He had to resist the urge to whistle.

The silent alarm went off as soon as the door opened but Derrick already knew someone was inside the house. He had taken the night watch while Joe was in his room, catching up on his sleep. Derrick was upstairs on the landing and had just started down the steps when he heard the glass window break. The noise was distant but unmistakable.

He didn't hesitate. Drawing his gun, he flipped the safety off and went to alert Joe. He was reaching for the doorknob when the door opened and Joe stepped out, his Glock already in his hand, the barrel pointing at the ceiling. He nodded to Derrick to let him know he was ready then faded back into the darkness of the room, leaving the door wide open. Derrick pointed to the flashing alarm and Joe quickly unplugged it.

Without making a sound, Derrick turned and hurried into Massie's bedroom. He quietly closed the door behind him. She was sound asleep on her back, her hands at her sides, an open Jane Austen book resting on her chest. He went to the side of the bed, squatted down next to her, and put his hand over her mouth so she wouldn't make any sound when she woke up.

"Massie, wake up. We've got company." His voice was low and calm.

She woke up trying to scream. Her eyes flew open and she tried to focus as she instinctively shoved his hand away. She realized it was Derrick touching her. Then his words registered at the same time she saw the gun.

"I need you to be real quiet." He whispered.

She nodded. She understood. Derrick pulled his hand back and she pushed the covers aside as she bolted upright. The forgotten book went flying and would have struck the hardwood floor had Derrick not grabbed it in midair. He put it down on the bed, reached up to switch off the reading lamp, then took her hand and gently pulled her to her feet.

Her heart was pounding frantically and she had trouble catching her breath. The room was so dark they had to grope their way along the wall. Derrick led her into the bathroom and she was reaching for the light when his hand covered hers.

"No lights." He whispered.

He stepped back into the bedroom and quietly pulled the door behind him.

"Be careful." She whispered.

She wanted to beg him to stay with her but she knew he wouldn't do that and couldn't.

It was pitch black inside and she was afraid to move for the fear of knocking something over and let the intruder know they were aware of his unannounced visit. Head bowed, she folded her arms over her stomach and stood frozen while her mind raced. How could she help? What could she do that wouldn't be a hindrance?

She was terrified for Derrick. The unexpected could trip up even the most experienced man. Everyone had a vulnerable point and Derrick was no exception. If anything happened to him, she wouldn't know what to do. Please, God, keep him safe.

It was deadly quiet. She pressed her ear against the door and strained to hear any little sound. She stood that way for a minute and still nothing but the sound of her ragged breathing and her heart pounding in her ears.

Then she heard it. A scratching noise, like a branch scraping across a window, but the sound wasn't coming from the inside of the house. It was above her. The roof. My God, was the intruder above the roof? No, no, he was already downstairs. She tried to convince herself that the noise she heard was simply a branch swaying in the wind.

She strained to listen. She heard that sound again. It was closer now to where she stood, and it didn't sound like a scraping noise at all this time. Now it sounded like an animal, a raccoon or a squirrel, she thought, scurrying across the roof ledge outside the bathroom window.

Was the window locked? Yes, of course it was. Derrick would have seen to that. Calm down. Don't let your imagination run wild.

She stared at the window. It was above the bathtub but it was too dark to see if the lock was latched. She needed to check it. If she moved slowly and carefully, she wouldn't make a noise. She was beginning to inch away from the door when she saw a red pencil-point beam of light shine through the windowpane. It danced across the vanity mirror, closing in on her. Searching… looking for a target.

She dropped to her knees, then to her stomach, and edged over to the bathtub. She pressed the length of her body against the cool porcelain, her eyes glued to the red beam. Too late, she realized she should have gotten out of the bathroom when she had the chance. The beam would catch her if she moved now. It was bouncing along the door, back and forth. My God, if Derrick opened the door and tried to come inside, whoever was on the ledge would have him clearly in sights.

Calm down. Think. How could he have gotten on the roof without being seen? Derrick had told her that there were agents watching the house night and day but there was a tree lot next to her bedroom and bath and another empty lot behind her backyard. It would be easy to climb up one of the hundred-year-old trees and make his way from the treetops to her roof. Easy, she thought.

But without being seen? It would be daring, tricky, but it could be done. Don't panic. Wait. Maybe it was one of the FBI agents on the roof. Yes, that could be it. He could be covering the bathroom window to make certain the madman didn't try to escape. All the windows were probably being covered by the FBI now.

As desperate as she was to believe that was true, she wasn't about to stand up to test her theory.

The beam was moving again, back and forth, back to the mirrors. Massie seized the opportunity, thanking God there wasn't a moon tonight. The darkness was a blessing. She scrambled to her knees to get the door open, then crawled into the bedroom, scraping her knee on the metal threshold.

She never took her eyes off the beam. She could see it closing in on her as she swung the door shut. Grimacing over the faint click the lock made, she leaned back against the wall and tried to catch her breath.

Derrick heard the faint rustle as she crawled out of the bathroom. What the hell was she doing? Why hadn't she stayed inside like he told her to?

He stood, pressed against the wall adjacent to the bedroom door and quietly pulled it open a crack. He could see out into the hallway that was faintly lit by the nightlight on the chest at the far end of the wide landing. He waited for the intruder to pass Massie's bedroom or the come inside.

He could hear him creeping up the steps. He knew when his foot struck the fifth stair. It creaked. If he'd been inside the house the number of times Derrick thought he had, he would have remembered the noise the step made and avoided it. Was Derrick giving him too much credit? No, he didn't think so. This man was careful. He was a planner, every bit of information they had on him indicated as much. And he was organized. Methodical, too. Yet, he hadn't been quiet when he'd broken into the house, and his method had been crude, not sophisticated. A tiger doesn't change his stripes. There were instances where an organized killer became disorganized but it took time for them to disintegrate, get sloppy. This unsub was exhibiting a radical change.

The back door opened and slammed shut. Whoever was coming up was running back down. Derrick heard quick footsteps on the first floor the harsh whispers. There were two of them in the house now. What the hell? That didn't make any sense at all. Everything they knew about the unsub pointed to a loner.

Until now. No, this was all wrong. The two intruders were arguing but their voices were muffled whispers, and Derrick couldn't catch a word they were saying. They were by the front door but only one of them rushed up the stairs. Derrick could hear the other one moving around below. Then a crash, maybe a vase, Derrick thought, followed by a shredding noise, like a material being ripped apart. The son of a bitch was either looking for something or trashing Massie's house.

The adrenaline was pouring through his vines now and he couldn't wait to get his hands on both of them.

The other intruder was on the landing now. He had a penlight. First the beam, then the shadow crossed the threshold of Massie's bedroom. He continued on to the hall linen closet. He was going for the camera. He was either going to remove it or turn it back on.

Joe flipped on the hall light an\s Derrick swiftly moved into the hall to block any retreat.

"Freeze." Joe ordered, his gun trained on the suspect.

**Yeah. Cliffie. Sorry. :))))**

**Anyhoo, I'll be dedicating the following chapters to the first three reviewers. Just to let you know. **

**Review, please. (Yeah, I said please)**


	24. Chapter 22

**This chapter is dedicated to _cristi03, krissy0405, _and _ --- _they're the first three who reviewed the two previous chapters I posted. And to all those who reviewed, thanl you so so much. :)**

**I own nothing. **

Chapter 22

"_Freeze." Joe ordered, his gun trained on the suspect._

Steve Brenner yanked his hand back from the closet ceiling and shielded his eyes from the blinding light. "What the…" He said as he tried to charge past Derrick.

Derrick clipped him on the side of his head with the butt of his gun. Stunned by the blow, Brenner reeled back, then attacked, his fists flailing like a drowning man. Derrick easily dodged the assault, then threw an uppercut to his nose and heard the crunch of bone. Blood spurted as Brenner, screaming in pain, staggered back and went down on his knees. Both his hands cupped his nose as he began shouting obscenities.

"You got him?" Derrick shouted as he turned and raced towards the stairs.

"I'm on him." Joe yelled back. He shoved Brenner to the floor on his stomach, then held him there with his knees pressed into his spine. "You have the right to remain silent…"

Derrick took the flight of stairs in two leaps. He swung over the banister, dropped to the floor in the front hallway and raced on. The caustic smell of gasoline was heavy in the air and by the time he was halfway across the living room, his eyes were tearing. He saw the gallon can of gasoline on the floor near the dining room table and Massie's pink bridesmaid dress in a heap next to the overturned can. The gown had been shredded into a wad and was soaked. Derrick muttered an expletive as he ran on.

He caught a fleeting glimpse of Lonnie's profile as he turned the corner into the kitchen. He didn't see the matched though.

Lonnie struck one match in the back hallway then lit the rest and threw the flaming pack behind him into the kitchen. Frantic to get away before he was caught, he clawed at the doorknob but his hands were sticky with gasoline. On the third try he got the door open. He ran outside, tripped on the back step, and went flying into the yard. Scrambling to his feet he ran unti the back lot, hooting with laughter because he knew he'd trapped Derrick inside and he had gotten away scot-free.

The floor was slick with gasoline and the fire was instantaneous as the match flames ignited the fuel with a loud, greedy swoosh. The breeze coming through the open back door whipped the fiery wall into frenzy and within bare seconds, the kitchen was a raging hellhole. Derrick stumbled back into the dining room. He tried to shield his eyes with the back of his arm as he regained his balance, but the heat was so intense he couldn't go forward. The fire was loud, almost deafening. Popping, crackling, hissing. The kitchen floor had turned into liquid fire, moving like a ferocious wave toward the dining room, drowning everything in its path.

"Massie!" Derrick shouted her name as he raced back through the living room. He thought he heard the squeal of tires out front and he stopped at the front door lng enough o unlock the dead bolt, but he didn't open the door because he knew the fresh air would only feed the fire.

Joe had handcuffed Brenner and was trying to get him to his feet but his prisoner was fighting him every inch of the way.

"Get him out through the front door but hurry. The fire's out of control." Derrick ordered as he passed them.

"That son of a bitch." Brenner roared. "That miserable little piece of shit. I'm going to kill him."

Joe pulled Brenner to his feet and shoved him ahead of him down the stairs.

Derrick burst into Massie's room. She had already put on jeans and a pair of flats and was pulling a T-shirt down over her midriff.

She'd packed, too. He couldn't believe it. The empty overnight bag she'd left on the floor by the closest door was now on her bed and stuffed full. The bathroom door was wide open and he could see that the counter had been swept clean.

"Let's go." He had to shout to be heard over Brenner's screams. "Leave it." He commanded when he saw her reach for the bag. "We've got to get out of here. Now."

Ignoring his order, she grabbed the bag and slung the strap over her left shoulder. Then she noticed he was barefoot. She grabbed his loafers and shoved them in the bag on top of the photo album.

Derrick flipped the safety on his gun and slipped it into his holster. That gave her two more seconds to grab his wallet, car keys and her purse from the top of the dresser. She was shoving them into the side pocket of the bag when Derrick grabbed her. He pulled her tight into his side and half-carried her along the hallway and down the stairs. She had a death grip on the strap and she could hear the bag banging on the steps behind her.

Black smoke rolled up the stairs to meet them. Derrick shoved her head down against his chest and continued on.

She heard an unearthly sound behind her, like a dragon wheezing, and then a crackling roar followed. The air conditioning in the dining room window crashed to the floor and exploded. The force was so great the walls shook and the hardwood shivered beneath her feet. The living room window shattered then and shards of glass the size of butcher knives shot out into the porch. The fire hissed and roared again as it fed on the gust of wind that rushed inside the open doorway.

They made it outside just in the nick of time. Another few seconds and they would have had to climb out one of the bedroom windows. The fire chased them outside, the flames licking at their heels. They stumbled down the steps and onto the front walk, coughing from the inhaled smoke.

She squeezed her eyes shut to try to get ride of the stinging. Derrick recovered much quicker than she did. He spotted Wesson leaping out of his car and running toward Joe and Brenner. The agent and his prisoner were standing in the empty lot beside Massie's house. Feinberg was still in the car, the motor running.

How had the agents gotten here so soon, Derrick wondered. First things first, he thought. He squeezed Massie. "Are you okay?" He asked, his voice hoarse from coughing.

She leaned into him, thankful for his strength. "Yes." She answered. "Are you alright?"

"Good to go." He said.

She looked around her in a daze. The entire neighborhood was waking up. Families up and down the street began to spill out of their houses onto their front porches and lawns to watc the fire. She could hear sirens wailing in the distance. She saw Bessie Jean and Vivian standing by the big old oak in their front yard. Both ladies were dressed in heavy, fuzzy robes, one pink, the other white, that made them look like giant bunny rabbits. Bessie Jean, her hair in pin curls, was wearing an old-fashioned hairnet, the knot she'd tied in the netting hanging down on her forehead. Vivian was dabbing at her eyes with her lacy handkerchief and shaking her head as she watched the fire.

Massie turned back and saw the flames shooting through the roof over her living room. It had been a near miss, she realized then. But Derrick was alright and so was she without a blister between them.

She watched the fire and thanked God no one had been hurt. Suddenly, the fog lifted and the truth settled. She began to shake.

"Massie, what's the matter?" Derrick asked, his voice full of concern.

"You got him. It's over, Derrick. The nightmare's over."

She dropped her bag and threw her arms around him. He held her close. Then he heard her whisper, "Thank you."

"We aren't going to celebrate just yet. Let's take this a step at a time."

She looked up at him. "I still can't believe it. When I heard him shouting at you in the hallway, I recognized his voice and I knew it was Steve but I just couldn't put it together in my mind. I was so shocked." She took a deep breath and tried to be more coherent. "You told me he was a suspect and you were right all along."

She couldn't stop trembling though. Impatiently wiping the tears away with the back of her hands, she remembered the man on the roof. "There were two of them." She said. "Yes, two." She repeated.

"The other man was Lonnie. He started the fire."

"Lonnie?" She didn't know why she was stunned to know the sheriff's son had been involved. Brenner had obviously been the brains. He had been the one to plan the nightmare from start to finish.

Derrick was looking around for Lonnie. Where the hell was he? He should have been cuffed by now with at least one agent on him.

Willie and Justin came running across the street to help. Justin immediately went to Bessie Jean's yard to turn on her garden hose to try to contain the fire. It was pitifully inadequate.

Derrick pulled Massie toward Wesson. The agent was talking on his phone.

"I got him, sir. I certainly did and as soon as I get the warrant, I'm positive I'm going to find more evidence to nail him."

"_I _got him?" Massie repeated Wesson's boast to Derrick.

"Yeah, I heard what he said."

Joe had obviously heard, too. He was glaring at Wesson, letting him see his hostility. The agent in charge ignored him and continued to speak into his Blackberry. Wesson could barely contain his enthusiasm.

"By the book, sir. That's how I got him. And for the record, instinct didn't have anything to do with apprehension. It was careful planning and following through. No, sir, that wasn't a criticism to your methods. I'm simply telling that it was hard work and not anything else."

The fire truck barreled down the street, the siren blaring. Feinberg moved his car out of the way of the fire hydrant and parked it in front of Bessie Jean's house, then got out and ran over to Joe. Like everyone else, he watched the blaze.

Volunteer firemen wearing yellow slickers and hats jumped from the truck and raced to hook up the hoses. The driver turned off the siren and then shouted, "Is everyone out of the house?"

"Everyone's out." Joe shouted back.

Derrick was seething inside. He swore that if Wesson didn't get off the damn phone in the next five seconds, he was going to rip it out of his hand and beat the hell out of him if that was wht it would take to get some answers. Where was Lonnie? And where were the agents who were supposed to be watching the house?

"Massie, I want you to get in the car and stay there. I'll move it onto the street." He said as he grabbed her hand and pulled her along.

She could hear the anger radiating in his voice. He was still acting as though he was supposed to protect her and she couldn't understand why. They had caught Brenner and they knew who his accomplice was.

"Derrick, it's over." Maybe it hadn't sunk in yet. Yes, that was it, she thought. "You did it. You and Joe got him."

"We'll talk about it later." He said curtly as he reached down and picked up the bag.

When they reached the car, he muttered, "Ah, hell, the keys."

"I've got them."

He held the bag while she dug until she found them. Her hands were shaking when she pressed the unlock key on the remote.

Derrick was tossing the car into the backseat when he heard Willie ask, "Hey, Massie, how come that guy's handcuffed?"

Justin jogged over from the Vanderman's yard. He too wanted to know the details.

"Isn't that Steve Brenner?" Justin asked. "He's a big shot in town."

"But how come he's cuffed? What'd he do?" Willie inquired.

"He broke into my house." Massie replied.

"Get inside the car, Mass." Derrick said. He took hold of her elbow to get her moving but she turned back when Brenner started screaming.

"Take these handcuffs off me. You can't hold me. I haven't done anything illegal. I own that house and pretty much every fucking house in this fucking town and if I want to put a camera inside that house, you can't stop me. I signed the papers two weeks ago. It's my house and I've got the right to know what goes on in there."

Joe had used up all his patience. "What you've got is the right to remain silent. Now shut the hell up."

Justin's mouth dropped open. "He put a camera in your house?"

"Where'd he put it?" Willie asked.

She didn't answer. She sagged against Derrick's side. Her eyes were fixed on Brenner. He turned, saw her watching him, and sneered. There was dried blood caked on his perfectly capped teeth and more smeared on his lips. He was a reptile.

Brenner couldn't control his fury. He blamed everyone but himself for getting caught. If the bitch hadn't brought the FBI boyfriend home, he wouldn't be in this predicament. Most of all he blamed Massie. Joe grabbed when he lunged toward her. Brenner tried to shove himself free while he shouted profanities at her. All his plans were ruined. Damn her.

"You bitch!" He snarled. "When I'm finished suing everybody, I'm going to own the FBI. I have rights." He added in a roar. And then, hoping to humiliate her, he added, "I've been watching you undress every night. I've seen everything you've got to offer."

She saw the evil radiating like hot coals in his eyes, and she didn't have any doubt at all he had killed all those innocent women. Brenner was clearly demented.

"Joe, put a gag in his mouth." Derrick yelled.

"Get her away from here." Wesson ordered.

The profanities Brenner hurled at her didn't shake her as Derrick led her back to the car. Some of the women in the crowd weren't so indifferent, however. One of the mother cupped her hands over her son's ears. Her neighbors were clearly shocked and appalled by Brenner's conduct.

Derrick got her inside the car, then backed into the street and parked it behind Feinberg's vehicle.

"Listen to me. I want you to stay in the car with the windows up and the doors locked." He flipped on the air conditioner so she wouldn't swelter.

"I want to get out of here. Could we please leave now?" She sounded close to tears.

"In just a minute." He promised. "Okay? I've got to talk to Wesson."

She woodenly nodded. "Yes, alright."

She watched him sprint across the yard then she turned to look at the house. The fire seemed to have been contained and she thought it odd that she didn't feel much emotion at all while she surveyed the destruction. It had been her home but now that Brenner owned it, she never wanted to go inside again.

The flashing lights, the noise of the crows, Brenner's screams ─ it was all too much. She put her hand to her forehead and slumped down in her seat. And then she began to cry for the women Brenner had murdered.

They could rest in peace now. The monster couldn't hurt anyone else.

**Now, what do we have here? Steve Brenner, eh? Do you think it's really him? Hmm. Let me know if you do or you don't.**

**Review, 'kay?**


	25. Chapter 23

**This chapter is dedicated to **_**Roza (), shadowinthedark13, **_**and **_**moniiiiiiiiicaX3 (). **_**And a big thanks to everyone who read.**

**I don't own anything.**

Chapter 23

The sheriff was the last to arrive at the scene. His Ford Explorer rounded the corner on two wheels. Swerving to avoid little Olivia, the car skidded to a stop.

Lloyd left his SUV in the middle of the street. Grunting as he eased his bulk out from under the steering wheel, he got out of the car and stood there with his hands on his hips, surveying the crowd. He tried to look important. Frowning so that anyone who might be watching would know he considered this a serious matter, he hiked his pants up with his belt, straightened his shoulders and strutted into Massie's yard.

"What's going on here?" He demanded.

"What do you think is going on?" Joe asked. "The house is on fire."

Lloyd scowled at Joe to let him know he didn't appreciate his sarcasm. Then he noticed Brenner's hands were behind his back and there was blood all over his face. Leaning to the side, he saw the handcuffs.

"Hey, now, what's Steve wearing those handcuffs for?"

"Breaking the law." Joe replied.

"Bullshit." Brenner ranted. "Lloyd, I didn't do anything illegal. Make them take these damn cuffs off me. They're chafing my wrists."

"In due course." Lloyd assured him. Then his eagle-eye gaze homed in on Joe and he took a threatening step toward him. "Aren't you the fella who was fixing Massie's sink? What are you doing here? Did you strike this citizen? His nose looks to be broken. Now I'm asking you straight out, boy, and I want a straight answer. Did you hit him?"

"I hit him." Derrick announced. "I should have shot him."

"Don't you be a smart mouth, boy. This here is a serious matter."

"Yes, it is." Derrick agreed. "And if you call me boy one more time, I'm going to handcuff you, too. Got that, Lloyd?"

Lloyd nervously took a step back to put some distance between him and Derrick, and acted like he was contemplating the situation. In reality, the sheriff was getting the feeling he was in over his head but he knew that Brenner would kill him if he didn't get him out of this mess. He warily looked up at Derrick. The FBI agent reminded him of a mountain lion, relaxed one second and sinking his teeth into his prey next.

"Lloyd, do something." Brenner demanded. "He broke my nose. I want him arrested."

Lloyd nodded and forced himself to look at Derrick's eyes. The frost there gave him a chill. He was proud of himself for resisting the urge to look away. "That's battery, hitting a citizen." He said. "You don't think I can arrest an FBI agent?"

Derrick's answer was immediate. "No, I don't think you can."

"Shit." Brenner muttered.

"We'll just see about that." Lloyd blistered. "Steve's got to get to the hospital and get that nose fixed and I'm going to take him there. I'm charge 'cause this here is my jurisdiction."

Joe looked at Derrick before answering. "This here is my prisoner and you aren't touching him."

Derrick moved to stand beside Joe, a show of unity against the sheriff, but he also wanted to be able to keep his eye on Massie.

"Say now, what are you wearing a gun for?" Lloyd asked Joe, seeing for the first time the weapon and holster attached to his belt. "You got yourself a permit for that?"

Joe smiled. "I sure do. I've got a badge, too. Want to see it? I'll bet it's bigger than yours."

"You being a smart-ass, boy?"

"He's FBI." Derrick said.

Lloyd was losing ground fast and needed to find at least one are over which he could take control.

"Are you responsible for this fire?" He asked Derrick.

Derrick didn't think the question merited an answer. He shoved his hands in his pockets to keep himself from grabbing the sheriff by the neck.

Olivia was standing about five feet away from the two men, taking furious notes on a Big Chief tablet. She took a tentative step toward Derrick, saw the look in his eyes, and backed away.

Joe motioned for Wesson to join them.

"What do you think you're going to arrest Steve for?" the sheriff demanded. "Burning down his own house?"

"He's already been arrested." Joe told him.

"On what charges?" Lloyd asked.

"Is there a problem here?" Wesson called out as he came running over.

"Who the hell are you?" Lloyd asked.

"Senior officer in charge." Wesson responded.

Joe grinned. "He's FBI, too."

"How many of you fellas are there in Westchester? And what are you doing here anyway? This is my town." He stressed. "And you all should have come directly to me if you knew about a problem here."

A heated exchange followed. Lloyd kept insisting that he was taking Brenner with him but there was no way that Wesson was going to let that happen. He also wasn't going to tell the sheriff what the charges were, despite Lloyd's protests that Wesson's secrecy was plain unconstitutional.

"It's an ongoing investigation." Wesson said.

"Investigation of what?" The sheriff pressed.

Derrick was fuming but his anger was fully directed on Wesson. He wasn't going to wait any much longer to get some answers and if that meant having an argument in a public forum, then that;s the way it was going to go down.

"Can you believe this?" Joe whispered. "The two of them are in a pissing contest."

"Yeah, well, they can figure out who's the bigger ass later. Hey, Sheriff, where's your son?"

The question distracted Lloyd. "Why do you want to know?"

"I'm going to arrest him."

Lloyd's bushy eyebrows shot up. "The hell you are. My boy hasn't done anything wrong." Making a wide sweep with his arm, he added, "You can see for yourself, he ain't here."

"He was here."

"Bullshit." Lloyd dragged the word out. "I'm saying he wasn't here and I'm not gonna let you pin this all on my boy. We watched wrestling together on the television."

"I saw him." Derrick said in hard voice.

"You couldn't have seen him 'cause like I just told you, he was home all evening with me."

Derrick turned to Wesson. "I want a word in private with you. Now."

He saw Olivia start toward them and then he turned around and walked toward the empty lot, away from prying ears. Wesson looked perturbed but followed Derrick.

"What is it?" He asked.

Anger punctuated Derrick's words. "Where the hell were the agents you told me you assigned to watch the house? If they were here, then how come Lonnie got past them? The kid went out the back door."

Wesson's lips formed a thin line of disapproval. He didn't like anyone questioning his decisions. "They left yesterday."

"They what?"

"They were given new assignments."

The muscle in Derrick's jaw clenched. "Who gave the order?"

"I did. Feinberg and Farley were sufficient backup. I felt that was all the manpower I needed."

"And you didn't think it was necessary to inform me or even Noah?"

"No, I didn't." Wesson answered very matter-of-factly. "You volunteered to be Massie's bodyguard and you're the one who brought in Noah to guard he brother. Frankly, if you hadn't gotten Morganstern's approval, you wouldn't even be on this case. I certainly wouldn't have approved it. You're too personally involved but because you're Morganstern's golden boy, he bent the rules and let you in/ I don't bend the rules." He added. "And I don't want or need your input. Have I made myself clear?"

"You really are a son of a bitch. You know that, Wesson?"

"Your insubordination is definitely going to be reported, agent."

The threat didn't faze Derrick. "Be sure to spell it right."

"You're off the case."

Derrick exploded. "You put Massie in jeopardy by trying to make this a one-man show. That's what's going in _my _report."

Wesson was determined not to let Derrick know how furious he was. "I did not such thing." He said coolly. "When you have had time to calm down, you'll realize that I didn't need a dozen agents running around town, sticking out like sore thumbs. It's the bottom line that counts. I got the unsub and that's all the boss is going to care about."

"You don't have enough evidence to prove Brenner's the unsub."

"Yes, I do." Wesson insisted. "Look at the facts. Not everything has to be complicated as you think it should be. Brenner was out of town and cannot be accounted for his whereabouts. He had plenty of time to get to New York, kill those women and get back to Westchester without attracting too much attention because everyone in town knows he travels a lot. He was careful about filing off the serial number on the camera but he admitted he placed it in her house and the only reason he went there tonight was because he thought you and Massie were at the party. He's been careful but he made a mistake. They all do." He added sagely. "We also know from witnesses that he was obsessed with Massie and that he had plans to marry her. We can make a strong case that he snapped when she spurned him."

"What witnesses?" Derrick asked.

"Several people in town I've already gotten statements from. Brenner's always been the primary suspect. You knew that. One of my agents is on his way back from the judge now with a warrant and when he gets here, I'm personally going through Brenner's house. I'm sure I'm going to find more evidence to convict him. By the book." He added smugly.

"It's too pat, Wesson."

"I disagree." He countered. "It was solid investigation work that nailed Brenner."

"You're letting your ego cloud your judgment." He said. "Don't you think it's rather odd that he brought another man?"

"You're referring to Lonnie and the answer is no, I don't think it's odd or out of character. Brenner simply took advantage of an opportunity. He probably figured he could pin the crime on the kid."

"What are you going to do about Lonnie?"

"I'll let the local authorities take care of him."

Derrick gritted his teeth. "The local authority happens to be his father." And without a backward glance, he walked away from the complacent bastard. Wesson was in his glory and Derrick knew he wasn't going to listen to anything he had to say. Brenner was the unsub. Case closed.

When Derrick got into the car, Massie took one look at his face and asked, "What happened?"

"I'm officially off the case. Not that I was ever really on it." He added derisively. "Wesson's convinced that Brenner's our guy. He's waiting for a warrant to search his house."

"But that's good, isn't it?"

He didn't answer her. Wesson was waving at him, trying to get his attention, but Derrick ignored him and started the car.

"Derrick, talk to me."

"This is all wrong."

"You don't think it's Brenner."

"No, I don't. I don't have any concrete answers but my gut's telling me he isn't the unsub. It's too easy. Maybe Wesson's right. Maybe I'm trying to make this more complicated than it really is. He's kept Noah and me in the dark so I don't know what evidence they've got convinces them. Hell, let's get out of here. I've got to get some distance so I can think."

"The Vanderman sisters offered us their extra bedroom and Willie and Justin offered us beds. I told them we were going to sleep at the abbey."

Derrick pulled out into the street. "Do you want to go there?"

"No."

"Okay. Then let's get the hell out of here."

**People, this story is not ending. Yet. We still have a few more chaps to go before I grudgingly say THE END. And, wow. You all have great ideas and guesses about who the real killer is. It's nice to know the suspense is eating you. HAHA. How do I know? Y'all keep on attacking me to reveal who the real murderer is. Now, where is the suspense there? Nowhere. Na da. Haha. So, bear with me for a few more chaps, guys. Alright? Alright. :D**

**Review, 'kay?**


	26. Chapter 24

**This chapter is dedicated to _analuvspjlogan (), zero2hero, _and _Jane Doe ()_. Thanks so much for those who reviewed, guys! :)**

**This is the chapter you've ALL been waiting for. Dying for is a more appropriate term, I guess. Clue? Want a clue? It's a BIG MASSINGTON chapter. ;;)**

**I own nothing.  
**  
Chapter 24

They headed north into the lake country. As soon as they left town, Derrick called Noah to tell him what had happened. He suggested that he wait until morning to tell Aiden.

"Be sure to stress that Massie is okay." He said.

"Yeah, yeah, sure." Noah said. "Look, Derrick, I have to tell you something. It's bad news and it's about Adam."

Derrick glanced at Massie and found her staring intently at him, listening. "Is that so?"

Noah caught up with him. "Is she there? Is she listening?"

"Yes."

"Can she hear me?"

"I don't think so." He stole a glance at Massie again, thankful that she had turned her attention to the darkness outside, and added, "No. Definitely not."

"Okay. I'm at the hospital with Aiden. Adam attempted suicide, took a bunch of pain killers. He found out that his girlfriend's pregnant and one of his teammates is the daddy. Good thing his secretary went to fetch him for a meeting. She found him in the bathroom."

"How is he?" Derrick kept his voice nonchalant.

"Still being observed. Spencer came home from Melbourne. He's in the canteen right now with Aiden. Wait until morning before you tell Massie. She had a rough night and one can only have enough."

"Alright." Derrick agreed.

As soon as he disconnected the call, Massie asked, "Are they alright?"

Derrick nodded without glancing at her.

"What about the house? I saw you talking to the fire chief. Is everything gone?"

He was thankful for the change of topic. "No." He answered. "The south side of the house is trashed but the upstairs and the north side is still intact."

"Do you think the closets are okay?"

"You worried about your clothes?"

"I had some of my paintings stored in the guest closet. It's okay." She hurried to add. "They aren't very good."

"How do you know they aren't good? Have you ever let anyone see them?"

"I've told you, painting is just a hobby." She answered.

She sounded so defensive, he decided to drop the subject. Their clothes smelled like smoke and so he pushed the window button down and let the breeze clean the air.

He stayed on the main two-lane highway for over an hour. Finding lodging wasn't a problem. There were hill-boards crowded together near every crossroad advertising seasonal rates. He finally turned onto a tributary leading to the west and chose a strip motel at the side of the road. Derrick woke the manager up, paid for the room in cash, and to the old man's delight, purchased two extra-large, red T-shirts sporting a white wide-mouth bass on the front and the name of the motel in bold white block letters on the back.

There were twelve units and twelve vacancies. Derrick chose the end unit and parked the car behind the motel so that it wouldn't be seen from the road.

The room was sparse but clean. The floor was gray and white linoleum squares; the walls were cement blocks and painted gray and there were two double beds against the far wall with a wobbly three-legged nightstand in between. The shade on the chipped ceramic lamp was torn and had been patched by duct tape.

It was well after two in the morning, and both of them were exhausted. Massie dumped the contents of the overnight bag on the bed and then gathered up their toiletries and put them on the shelf in the bathroom. She took her shower first, and when she was finished, he washed out her lacy underwear and hung the bra and panties on a plastic hanger to dry. She didn't know what to do about her jeans and t-shirt. If she tried to use the bar of soap to wash them, she knew they wouldn't be dry by morning. She was going to have to wear them again but maybe they could find a Wal-Mart or Target on their way back to Westchester and she could buy clean clothing and change. There certainly weren't department stores this far the north.

She put the concern aside and dried her hair with the hair dryer the owner had chained to the wall next to the mirror.

When she came out of the bathroom wearing the new T-shirt with the giant bass covering her chest, Derrick smiled, the first bit of emotion he'd shown since they left town.

"You look good, babe." He teased.

She laughed and tugged the T-shirt down to her knees. "I look ridiculous."

He grinned again. "That, too." He admitted as he headed for the bathroom. "I can't believe you got the charger for my phone. I'm damn glad you did though."

"It was on the nightstand next to my glasses. I just grabbed everything I could get my hands on. I'll tell you, it was scary going back into the bathroom and I just threw things in the bag."

She pulled the covers back and got into one of the beds. Derrick left the bathroom door open while he showered. The clear plastic shower curtain didn't conceal much but she tried not to stare. She only put on her glasses so she could write a shopping list. Of course, glancing into the bathroom every now and then was just curiosity on her part, that's all. Liar, liar, liar. If she'd been wearing any pants, they'd be on fire now.

Derrick was built like a Greek god. He was turned away from her so she could only see his backside. The muscle in his upper arms and thighs were incredibly well defined. She thought his body was just about perfect.

When she realized her behavior bordered on that of a voyeur ─ and how disgusting was that ─ she took her glasses off so she couldn't see anything if the temptation became too irresistible again. The man deserved a little privacy, didn't he?

She picked up the remote, smiling as she saw that it too was chained to the wall, and then turned on the television and squinted at the screen.

They were acting as though they'd been married for years. At least Derrick was. He seemed thoroughly relaxed with her and hadn't even given the double beds a second glance. He was taking their situation in stride.

She wasn't. She was a nervous wreck inside, grossly uptight, as Adam would say, but she was determined not to let it show. If Derrick guessed anything was wrong, she was fully prepared to lie and tell him that it was the trauma tonight that had put her on the edge. She couldn't tell him the truth because it would be a terrible burden for him but she couldn't help but wonder how he would react if he knew what was going on in her mind.

Did he have any idea how she felt about him? What would he say if she told him she wanted him and damn the consequences? One wonderful night together, and the memory could and would last her a lifetime. Not an affair or a fling, she qualified. Derrick couldn't handle that and neither could she. But one night and no regrets. Not ever. Oh, how she longed to have his arms around her. To have him hold her and caress her.

It wasn't going to happen, though. Derrick had been up front with her from the very beginning. He didn't want marriage or children and because he knew she did, he would never touch her.

Even though she was certain a lasting relationship was out of the question, she still ached to touch him. She loved him. God help her. How had she allowed herself to be so vulnerable? She should have seen it coming and done something, anything, to protect herself. It was too late now. When he left her, he was going to break her heat and there wasn't anything she could do about it.

Knowing the pain that lay ahead didn't change how she felt about him. One night, she told herself. That was all she would ever need but she knew Derrick wouldn't see it that way. He would see it as a betrayal to her brothers, and yet she still considered all the arguments she could give him to try to sway him.

They were consenting adults. What happened between them wasn't anyone else's business.

Massie knew what Derrick's answer to that argument would be. She was Spencer's kid sister. End story.

Massie knew Derrick cared about her. But did he love her? She was afraid to ask.

Derrick came out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a pair of plaid boxer shorts. He was towel drying his hair but paused when he saw her frowning, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I was just thinking…"

He tossed the tower over a chair, then went to the side of the other bed and pulled back the covers as he asked, "About tonight?"

"Not exactly."

"Then what were you thinking about?"

"Trust me. You don't want to know."

"Sure I do. Tell me what you were thinking." He prodded as he stacked the pillows against the headboard and then reached over to turn off the lamp.

"Alright. I will. I was trying to figure out how to seduce you."

His hand was halfway to the lamp when he froze. She couldn't believe she'd blurted out the truth that way. But she certainly had grabbed his full attention. He stayed perfectly still, like a deer caught in the headlights, then slowly straightened and turned to stare at her.

His expression was priceless. Had she not been mortified, she would have laughed. Derrick looked dumbfounded. He was obviously waiting for some kind of a disclaimer or clarification, or maybe even a punch line, she supposed, but she honestly didn't know what to tell him and so she lifted her shoulders in a shrug, as if to say, there it is, believe it or not, take me or leave me.

"Are you joking?" His voice was hoarse.

She slowly shook her head. "Have I shocked you?"

He took a step back, shaking his head. He'd obviously decided not to believe her.

"You did ask me to tell you what I was thinking about." She said,

"Yeah, well…"

"I'm not embarrassed."

Her face was the color of her red T-shirt.

"No reason to be." He stammered.

"Derrick?"

"What?"

"What do you think about what I said?"

He didn't answer her. She pushed the covers aside and got out of bed. He quickly backed away from her. Before she could blink, he was halfway across the room.

"I'm not going to attack you." She said.

"Damn right you won't."

She took a step toward him. "Derrick…"

He cut her off. "Stay right where you are, Massie." He pointed his finger at her as he gave her the order… or, rather, shouted it. And he kept backing away until he bumped into the television which would have crashed to the ground had it not been bolted to the wall.

She was mortified. He was acting as though he was afraid of her. She certainly hadn't anticipated such a bizarre response. Disbelief maybe, even anger. But fear? Until this moment, she hadn't believed Derrick was afraid of anything.

"What's the matter with you?" She whispered.

"It's out of the question. That's what's the matter with me. Now stop it, Massie. Stop it right this minute."

"Stop what?"

"Talking crazy."

Too embarrassed to look him in the eyes, she bowed her head and stared at the floor tiles. It was too late to take the words back or pretend she hadn't said them, and so she decided to make everything a hundred times worse and tell him everything.

"There's more." She whispered, her voice soft.

"I don't want to hear it."

She ignored the protest. "When you kiss me, I get this funny, tingling feeling in my stomach, and I don't want you to stop. I've never felt that way before. I just thought you should know." She heard him groan but couldn't make herself look at him yet. "And you know what's really odd?"

"I don't want to ─"

She interrupted him, desperate to get the declaration out before she lost her courage. "I think I'm falling in love with you."

She dared a quick look up to see how he was taking the announcement and wished to God she hadn't bothered. To his credit, he didn't look like he was afraid of her any longer. No, now he looked like he wanted to kill her. It wasn't what she would consider a step in the right direction.

She seemed driven to make it worse. "No, I'm not falling in love with you. I do love you." She stubbornly insisted.

"When the hell did that happen?" He demanded. The anger in his voice stung like a whip. She flinched and blinked away the tears in her eyes.

"I don't know." She sounded bewildered. "It just did. I certainly didn't plan it. You're all wrong for me." She said. "I want it all, marriage till death do us part and I want babies. Lots of babies. And you don't want any of that. I understand we don't have a future together but I thought that if I could persuade you to make love to me just this one time, that it would be enough. It won't change anything."

"The hell it won't."

"Oh, for heaven's sake, stop shaking your head at me. Forget I mentioned it. And by the way, I find your reaction highly insulting. I thought that you felt… that you cared as much as I… oh, never mind. A simple 'no thank you' would have sufficed. You didn't need to let me know how appalled you are by the notion of sleeping with me."

"Damn it, Massie, try to understand."

"I do understand. You've made your position perfectly clear. You don't want me."

"Are you crying?" His question sounded like threat.

She'd die before she admitted it. "No, of course not." She wiped the tears away from her face but it didn't stem the tide. "It just looks that way."

"Ah, Massie, don't cry." He begged.

"It's my allergies." A sob escaped. "I need a tissue."

She tried to walk past him to the bathroom but he reached for her and pulled her toward him. She collapsed against his chest and let the tears come. He wrapped her in his arms, kissed the top of her head then her forehead.

"You listen to me, Massie." He sounded like a drowning man desperate for help. "You don't know what you're talking about. You've been through hell and you're frightened and your emotions are all mixed up now."

He knew what was happening to her. She was mistaking gratitude for love. Easy to do, given the circumstances. Yes, that was it. She couldn't love him. She was too good for him, too sweet, too beautiful, too perfect. And he didn't deserve her. He had to stop this now before it was too late.

"I know what's in my heart, Derrick. I love you."

"Stop saying that."

He sounded angry but he was kissing her fervently at the same time and he was being so gently. She didn't know how to interpret the mixed signals. She couldn't stop holding him, touching him.

"Sweetheart, please stop crying. It's making me crazy." He pleaded.

"My allergies are acting up." She cried against his collarbone.

"It's not the allergies." He whispered as he brushed his lips against her neck. He loved her scent. She smelled like flowers and soap and woman.

He was lost and he knew it. He cupped the side of her face with his hands and gently kissed the tears away. "You are so lovely." He whispered and his mouth covered hers, demanding and urgent now, unrelenting, his tongue stroking hers. He began to tremble like a young man experiencing his first attempt at sex. Only this wasn't awkward. It was perfect.

God, how he wanted this. And yet there was still a part of him that tried to pretend he was merely offering her comfort. Until his hands slid up under her shirt and he was touching warm, silky skin. The hell with comfort. He wanted her with a burning intensity that shook him to the core and scared the hell out of him.

He couldn't stop stroking her. She felt so good against him, so soft, so right. He was pulling her t-shirt over her head and trying to kiss her at the same time, even as he told her they couldn't do anything they would regret in the morning light.

She frantically agreed as she tugged on the snaps of his shorts and pushed them down. Her hands slid back up his thighs and began to caress him intimately.

Her fingers were magical, the feather light touch against him was an exquisite torture. He was hard and throbbing and when he knew he couldn't stand any longer if she couldn't to caress him, he grabbed her hands and lifted them up around his neck. Then he roughly pressed against her, and the feel of her soft full breasts against him was damn near his undoing. Velvety skin rubbed against his as he tried to devour her with his mouth.

He pulled away from her. "Wait. Do I need a condom?" He asked.

Massie tugged on his hair to get him to kiss her again. "I'm on the pill." She whispered when their lips were less than inches from each other.

Derrick groaned and captured her mouth with his again. They fell into bed together, all arms and legs. He shifted position so that he was on top of her, nudging her thighs apart so that he could rest between them. He lifted his head and looked at her swollen, well-kissed lips and was once again mesmerized by her beauty.

He made love to her, telling her without words how he adored her.

A good thirty minutes later, Massie was curled up against Derrick, her hand splayed across the curly mate of hair on his chest.

Massie was too overwhelmed to speak. She could barely form a coherent though. When she was finally able to breathe again, she leaned up to look at his face.

She stared into those deep blue eyes, so intense now with the residue of raw passion, and smiled as she arched against him like a well-fed cat. She loved the feel of his hard body against hers. The hair on his legs tickled her toes and she loved that feeling, too.

She loved him. Now and always, she admitted. Then she saw the worry creep into his gaze and she tried to think of a way to ward off the regret she knew he would be feeling soon. She gave him a long, lingering kiss and then she smiled at him again. "You know what I think?"

"What's that?" he asked on a yawn, still too exhausted and content to move.

"I could get really good at this."

He groaned, but then she felt the low rumble building in his chest and he was suddenly laughing. "You'll kill me if you get any better."

"You liked it, too?"

"How can you ask me such a question?"

She traced the corded muscle along his shoulder, noticed a faded jagged scar on his upper arm, and leaned up to kiss it. "How did this happen?"

"Football."

"And this?" She asked as she touched the faint scar on his hip. "Was it a bullet?"

"Football." He said again. She didn't look like she believed him. "Honest." He said. "It's a football cleat."

"Have you ever been shot?" Her voice trembled when she asked.

"No." He answered. "Stabbed, punched, kicked, scratched and spit on, yes, but shot, no." Not yet anyway, he silently qualified. A scar from a knife wound ─ and ice pick actually ─ was on his back, down low by his left kidney. A couple of inches higher and he wouldn't have lived. Maybe Massie wouldn't notice but if she will, he decided he wouldn't lie to her.

"Most of the scars are from football." He said.

She threaded her fingers through his hair. "Except the ones you carry inside."

He pulled her hand away. "Don't get sentimental on me. Everybody carries a little baggage."

He was trying to close up on her, to pull away emotionally, but she wouldn't let him take the coward's path. When he rolled onto his back and curtly told her it was time they got little sleep, she ignored the suggestion.

She rolled over on top of him. Stacking her hands under her chin, she stared into his eyes.

His hands were already on her hips. He wanted to make her get off of him and got to sleep before he gave in to his desire and made love to her again, but he couldn't make himself let go of her.

"Promise me something and I'll let you sleep." She said.

"What?" He sounded suspicious.

"No matter what happens…"

"Yes?"

"No regrets. Alright, Derrick?"

He nodded. "What about you?"

"No regrets." She vowed.

"Agreed." He said.

"Say it."

He sighed. "No regrets."

And both of them were lying.

***cough* *cough* **

**So, what do you think? I know what you think. You're screaming in your head, "ABOUT TIME!" or "FINALLY!". **

**HAHA. I totally lol_ed_ when one of you said that the killer might be one of Massie's brothers. I can tell you this, though, it's not one of them. *wink* Alright, that's enough for one chap. We've had too much excitement already. :D**

**Review, 'kay?**


	27. Chapter 25

**Thanks for all the reviews. I enjoyed reading them. Anyhoo, some of you found their "first time together" a bit disappointing. Me, too. Personally, I didn't like it. I would have added more and elaborated more, if you know what I mean. *wiggles eyebrows* But i had to keep it "down low" since we're, I quote Miss Ericka, "four-year-olds in heart". Haha. :D **

**I'm still thinking about making a sequel. Actually, I haven't thought about it. But I'm thinking about it now. :)**

**I changed the chapter 'cause while I was scanning it, I spotted some errors. FYI.**

**I own nothing.**

Chapter 25

The unsub didn't like surprises, unless, of course, he was the one doing them out.

Tonight was clock full of unpleasant surprises. He had already heard that the mule was ridiculing him and he had taken it all in stride. He expected stupidity from the mules so he was only mildy bothered to hear some of the names he was being called. Sticks and stones… words couldn't hurt him. Until tonight when he heard that Massie was also spreading lies. She had called him impotent. He could barely stand the thought of her lips forming the hideous word. How dare she betray him? How dare she?

He had to get even, and he was driven to act quickly. The need to punish her overrode caution. How long had he stood in the back lot looking up at her window? At least an hour, maybe two. He didn't know. When the need grabbed hold of him, time wasn't important.

And then he'd seen Lonnie. The stupid boy was climbing up the tree, the very same tree the unsub had used to climb up her house and watch her during the night.

He watched Lonnie crawl across the roof and slip into the overhang outside the bathroom window. Just the way he had done. _Clever boy_, he thought. _Following in my footsteps._

While waiting to see what Lonnie was going to do, his attention was distracted by another man. Good old Steve Brenner was creeping around Massie's back door. Now what was he up to?

The surprises kept coming, escalating until the house was in flames and Brenner was surrounded by mules.

He could walk away now and no one would be the wiser. They thought they had their man. After he'd taken a little stroll down the streets of Westchester and found what he was looking for, he'd made a little deposit and gone happily on his way. The opportunity had fallen into his lap. Yes, he could walk away but would he? Now that was a question that was haunting him.

What a quandary. Yes, siree. Could he? Would he?

His obsession was turning him into a cold-blooded murderer. No, that wasn't true, he forced himself to admit. He was already a killer. A perfect killer, he qualified. His ego insisted that he give himself his due. A part of him was quiet analytical about it all, and he was able to realized what was happening to him but he couldn't make himself mourn for the loss of what other people would say his sanity. He wasn't crazy. No, of course, he wasn't. But he was vengeful. No doubt about that. It was his sacred duty to give back what was given to him.

He paced about the little room, planning and fuming. That sleazy little Lonnie boy had messed things up good and he couldn't let him get away with it, could he? Because of him, the perfect plan had been ruined and what was he prepared to do about it?

The stupid ingrate was forcing him to move up his timetable. What an inconvenience that was and Lonnie should pay, shouldn't he? Why, yes, indeed, he should. Fair was fair, after all, and besides, he'd noticed Massie didn't like the young slug. But then who would? Maybe it was time he showed her how much he cared about her/ He decided to give her a gift, something special… like Lonnie's spleen or liver, maybe. Certainly not his heart. He wanted to please her, not insult her, and he didn't want Massie to think Lonnie was in love with her. No, siree.

He glanced at the clock on the nightstand. My oh my, where does the time go? So much to do, so little time to do it, thanks to Lonnie boy. Oh, he'll pay alright with his spleen and his liver and maybe even a kidney or two. But first things first, he cautioned. There was work to be finished.

Preparation, after all, was everything. The party had to be perfect.

* * *

She loved sleeping with him, tucked safely in his arms with her legs trapped under one of his thighs. She awakened before he did but was feeling to content to move. Derrick looked peaceful. She didn't want to disturb his rest, and so she stayed perfectly still while she studied his face with the critical eye of an artist. He had the most wonderful profile. The chiseled line of his jaw, the straight nose, the perfectly sculptured mouth. She wanted to paint him, to capture the strength she saw in his eyes. She wondered if he knew how beautiful he was or if he cared. He was a practical man. He didn't have time for such thought or vanities.

She wanted him to wake up and make love to her again but she knew that wasn't possible. He'd turn to her again and again during the night but now it was morning and everything was different. She had asked him for one night and the cost, she knew, had been dear. She couldn't and wouldn't ask for more.

How will she ever go back to the way things were? She was a strong woman. She could do anything she set her mind to, and she was a master at hiding her feelings. She could pretend that it had been a glorious night of recreational sex, that was all, a simple way to release some pent-up tensions and frustrations… but, oh, God, how was she going to pull that off? She knew a lot of women who believed it was perfectly alright to take a man they only had met home with them for the night and never see him again in the morning. Women had needs, after all. What was wrong with a one-night stand? Everything, she thought. Because the heart had to be involved. She could never have given herself to Derrick completely if she hadn't already made a commitment and an acknowledgement that she loved him.

Memories… she would have the memories of their night together, and that would be enough. She squeezed her eyes shut. She wanted more than memories. She wanted to wake up next to Derrick every morning for the rest of her life.

She hated feeling this vulnerable and wished to God there was a way to harden herself. Throwing the sheet back, she nudged Derrick's thigh away and got out of bed.

No regrets.

**Aww. If you still want to kill me for that, please hold on to your patience. I've already explained why Derrick doesn't want a long-lasting relationship especially with Massie who he really loves. If you still don't get his reasons, just let me know and I'd be happy to explain. **

**AND... I'm going on a very short HIATUS, one week, to be exact. But I'm going to use that time to finish writing this story so that when I get back, all I have to do is update everyday. Wouldn't you like that?**

**Till then, review, alright? :)**


	28. Chapter 26

**I'm back! Yay! I know I told you I would go on a short HIATUS to finish this story. But I've gotta tell you, people, a week wasn't enough. It's alright, though. I couldn't stomach the idea of making my dear readers wait so long AGAIN. **

**This chapter is dedicated to **_**Kittykatgurl21, analuvspjandlogan, **_**and **_**Overloaded Candy-coated**_**. And, of course, to all of those who read, reviewed the previous chapter.**

**I own nothing.**

Chapter 26

Both of them were in a hurry to leave the motel. He wanted to get out of the room before he threw her on the bed and made love to her again. She wanted to leave as quickly as possible before she started crying again… like the stupid, small-town girl she was.

The silence between them was strained and horribly uncomfortable. She stared out the window while he drove. She wondered what he was thinking but didn't ask.

Derrick was silently cursing himself for being such a bastard. What kind of man was he to take advantage of his best friend's sister? A sick, perverted bastard. That was what he was, alright, and Spencer would never, ever, ever going to understand.

Regrets? Hell, yes. He had regrets yet he knew if they had stayed in the motel any longer, he would have to made love to her again.

They stopped at a superstore off the main highway and spent a quick half hour shopping. At a filling station, Massie changed while Derrick got a couple of Diet Cokes out of the machine. When she came out, she was wearing a seven-dollar pink-and-white checkered blouse and a pair of fifteen-dollar stonewashed jeans but the inexpensive clothes looked designer on her. The fabric hugged the curves of her luscious body and he had to look away until he got his heartbeat regulated. _Scum_, he thought. _I'm lower than a scum_. Then he looked again and noticed how her hair gently swayed behind her. He remembered how the soft curls felt when she was leaning over him. Realizing what he was doing, he cursed himself again. He had the discipline of a pig.

When she got close to him, she stopped and slowly raised her hand. Clutched inside her fist was the front page of a newspaper. And written in big, black letters was : **BIG SHOT NEW YORK QUATERBACK ATTEMPTED SUICIDE**_**. **_Under the headline was a picture of Adam being whisked away by EMTs.

"Do you know about this?" Massie demanded, her glare melting ice.

"Now, Massie, ─"

"Do _you _know about this?" She roared, not caring if some people passing by looked curiously at her.

"Yes."

"When?"

"You've had a rough night. I didn't want you ─"

"_When?_"

Derrick let out a long sigh. "Last night. While we were on the road."

"And you didn't think I should know about this?"

"Look, Massie," He started and clamped his hand over her mouth when she was about to protest, "Aiden didn't want you to worry. He thought you had too much to deal with what with the unsub on the loose. He was only looking out for you. Now, if you still want to shout, wait until we get to your brother."

She raised an eyebrow at him.

He nodded. "He's on his way to Westchester right now. He'll be staying in the abbey with Noah. Now, are you going to behave?"

When she nodded, he moved his hand. He all but shoved her into the front seat.

Massie prayed for patience as Derrick got inside the driver's seat. When he started the car, she said in a calm tone, "Listen. If you were my brother, what would you feel if I kept something like this from you?"

Derrick cast her a sideway glance. "Honey, if I were your brother, we'll have a bigger problem in our hands."

She mentally threw her hands in the air. One couldn't get a rational answer from the man! Instead of wringing her hands around his neck, she clasped them on her lap and stared out the window, all the while thinking about Adam.

They didn't speak to each other for the next three miles. He thought it was prudent to keep silent. He finished his Coke and dropped the can in the cup holder.

"Are you still thirsty?" She asked, offering him her drink.

"You don't want it?"

"You can have it."

And that was the end of their conversation for the next ten minutes. Massie waited for him to get past whatever it was that was bothering him and when she couldn't stand the silence another minute, she said, "I imagine Noah's told my brothers by now."

"Good God, I hope not. It's my job to tell your brothers. Not Noah's."

"They're going to know." She began.

"I'll tell them." He insisted.

It occurred to her then that they might not be talking about the same thing. "The fire, Derrick, I was asking you if you thought Noah told my brothers about the fire yet." She explained. "And about Steve Brenner being arrested."

"Oh. Yeah, I'm sure he's told him by now. At least I hope he did before either of them read about it in the paper."

"What were you talking about?"

"Never mind."

"I want to know. Tell me."

"Us." He said, gripping the steering wheel. "I thought you were asking me if Noah told Aiden about us."

Her head snapped up. "And you said you should be the one to tell him. You did say that, didn't you?" She sounded incredulous.

"Yeah, that's exactly what I said."

"You're joking though, aren't you?"

"No, I'm not."

"You are not going to tell my brothers about last night." She was vehement.

"I think I should." He argued, and he suddenly sounded quite calm and reasonable.

She thought he was out of his mind. "Absolutely not. What happened between us stays between us."

"Normally that would be true." He agreed. "But you're… different. I should tell him."

"I'm not different."

"Yes, you are, sweetheart. Your brother's my best friend and Aiden and Adam happen to be my friends, too. Yeah, I've got to tell them. It's the decent thing to do. Besides, they're gonna figure it out. They'll know."

"They're not clairvoyant."

"I've never been able to pull anything over on Spencer, not since college. He's always known what's going on in my head. He's bailed me out of a lot of trouble. For a while, when we were at Harvard, he was like my conscience. No, I'm not going to lie to him."

She could feel a headache coming on. "You don't have to lie. You don't have to say anything."

"I'm telling you he's got to know. I've got to tell him."

"Have you lost your mind?"

"No."

"You are not telling him. I know you feel as though you've betrayed him but ─"

He wouldn't let her finish. "Of course I feel like I betrayed him. He trusted me, damn it. _They _trusted me."

The road was deserted so he pulled the car over on the shoulder.

"I know it's going to be a little awkward for you but you'll get past it." He said.

She couldn't believe they were having this conversation. "Derrick, my brothers trusted you to keep me safe. You've done that. You don't need to tell him about last night."

Astonishment had given way to anger and embarrassment and she was so upset tears came to her eyes. She vowed she'd die before she cried in front of him again.

"I haven't done anything I'm ashamed of." She insisted. "And you promised me you wouldn't have any regrets."

"Yeah, well, I lied."

She jabbed him in the shoulder. "If you feel so guilty, then go to confession."

She was glaring at him now and all he could think about was how pretty she was when she was angry. He wouldn't have been surprised if sparks flew out of her eyes.

She didn't give him time to respond. "You have nothing to feel guilty about." She cried. "I seduced you."

"No, you didn't."

"I most certainly did."

"Alright." He said. "Then tell me, how'd you do it?"

"I made you feel sorry for me. I cried."

He rolled his eyes. "I see." He drawled. "So I had sex with you out of pity? Is that the way you see it?"

She seriously contemplated getting out of the car and walking back to town.

"Let me ask you something." She said then, trying to make him realize how unreasonable and stubborn he was being. "You have slept with other women, haven't you?"

"Yes, I have." He agreed. "Want their numbers?"

"No." She countered. "I want to know what happened after you had sex with them. Did you feel compelled to tell their mothers?"

He laughed. "No, I didn't."

"Well then?"

"Like I said before, honey. You're different."

She folded her arms across her chest and stared straight ahead. "I'm not talking about this any longer."

"Massie, look at me. How about if I promise you something?"

"Why bother? You don't keep any of your promises."

"Making me promise I wouldn't have any regrets was plain stupid, so I don't think that should count. I'll keep this promise." He assured her. "If he doesn't ask, I won't tell. I won't say anything to your brothers for a couple of days. That should give you enough time to calm down."

"Not good enough." She countered. "Since you're compelled to be a blabbermouth, you have to wait until you're back in Boston."

"I should tell him face-to-face so if he wants to punch me, he can."

"Boston." She gritted out between clenched teeth.

He finally relented. They got back on the road and headed for home again.

"Derrick?"

"Yes?"

He sounded downright cheerful now. He really was the most exasperating man.

"Any other bombshells you want to drop on me before we get home?"

"Yeah, come to think of it, there is one more thing I want you to know."

She mentally braced herself. "What is it? No, let me guess. You want to put it in paper."

He laughed. "No."

"Then what?" Now _she _sounded cranky.

"When I go back to Boston…"

"Yes?"

"You're coming with me."

"Why?"

"Because I'm not going to let you out of my sight until I'm sure we've got the right guy under lock and key."

"For how long?"

"As long as it takes. Until I'm satisfied."

"I can't do that."

"Well, you're going to." He countered.

"I'll go with you to Boston while the anniversary is going on here but I have to come back. I have to find a place to live, open my store, make some decisions about what I'm going to do with the rest of my life. I need some time to sort things out."

"I want to talk to you about something else while I'm thinking about it."

"Yes?"

"You're not in love with me."

She blinked. "I'm not?"

"No." He said emphatically. "You just think you are. You're confused." He explained. "You've been under a lot of stress lately and we've been tied together."

She knew where he was headed. "I see."

"Transference."

"I'm sorry?"

"It's called transference. It's kind of like a patient falling in love with her doctor. It's not real." He stressed.

"That's what I'm suffering from?"

"Not suffering, honey." He said. "But I do think you've confused gratitude with love."

She pretended to ponder the possibility for a long minute then said, "I believe you might be right."

She swore that if he looked the least bit relieved, she would do him bodily harm.

"You do?" He sounded a little stunned.

"Yes, I do." She said forcefully.

He wanted confirmation. "So you realize you don't love me?"

_No_, she thought. _I realize that telling you I love you terrifies you because it means commitment and taking a chance._

"That's exactly what I realize." She told him. "It's that transference thing alright. I was confused, but I'm not any longer. Thank you for clearing it up for me."

He shot her a hasty glance. "That was pretty damn quick, wasn't it?"

"When you're right, you're right."

"That's it?" He was suddenly furious with her and didn't care that it showed. Damn it, she had told him she loved him and after a one-minute argument, she caved. What the hell kind of love was that? "That's all you have to say?"

"No, actually there is just one more thing I'd like to mention."

"Yeah? What's that?"

"Remember that one time when I told you you were an idiot?" She asked sweetly.

He glanced at her cautiously. "Yeah, I remember."

She smiled. "Well, I want to take it back. You're not an idiot."

He couldn't help but grin back to her. "I really don't mind ─"

"You're an asshole."

**Seriously, I kinda agree with Massie here. Derrick's an a-hole. Sorry, guys. :)**

**Expect an update every day, people. **

**Review?**


	29. Chapter 27

**This chapter is dedicated to **_**Kittykatgurl21, ..thunder, **_**and **__**, **

**To **_**..thunder **_**– No, I'm not mad at you. Thanks you for that review. I like it when readers pour their heart out to me. :) Anyway, the reason why he wants to bring her to Boston is that he's still not sure about Brenner. **

**I own nothing.**

Chapter 27

Massie used Derrick's phone to call Claire and give her the bad news about the bridesmaid's dress.

Claire answered on the first ring. "Where are you? Are you alright? I heard about the fire, and Bessie Jean told Mother you left with Derrick, but no one knew where you went. My God, can you believe Steve Brenner turned out to be such a pervert? Did you know he'd hidden a camera in your house?"

Massie patiently answered her questions and then told her about the dress. Claire took the news surprisingly well. "If only you'd left the dress with Dylan's mom." She said.

"You told me to pick it up, remember?"

"Yes, but when have you ever listened to me?"

"Claire, what are we going to do? Should I just bow out?"

"No way." Claire cried. "You can wear something of mine."

"You've got to be joking. You're tiny. Nothing of yours would fit me."

"Listen, Massie, I'm stuck with Cam's two insipid cousins in my wedding, but I'm not letting either one of them be my maid of honor. Are you or are you not my best friend?"

"Of course I am." She said. "But ─"

"The improvise. I don't care what you wear. Come naked if you want. No, you better not do that. You'd cause a riot." She said. "Cam wouldn't remember his vows." She added with a laugh.

"I'll find something." She promised, wondering how in God's name she was going to have time to shop.

"You'll still be here at four?"

"Give me at least until five."

"Was the dress destroyed by the fire? Maybe the dry cleaners could repair it if it wasn't burned up."

"No." She answered. "It's gone."

"The town's in an uproar over Brenner." She said then. "How stupid was he to torch his own house? Did you know he'd browbeaten Miss Talbot into selling it to him? He didn't have any insurance either. Did you know that? The pervert paid cash."

"How did you find all that out?" Massie asked.

"Mother's nosy friends. Little Olivia's called Mother three times in the past hour to give more information."

"Steve didn't start the fire." Massie said. "Lonnie did. I guess he didn't know Steve had bought the house."

"That wasn't in the paper." Claire exclaimed. "The sheriff's son was in on it?"

"Yes." Massie answered. "There's a lot more, too, Claire, but I can't go into it now."

"You can tell me everything while we get dressed." She said. "And I mean everything. I've got to go hang up now. I'm getting my nails done. I'll see you at five and please, stop worrying. It's going to be fine. Nothing can ruin this day for me, an do you know why?"

"Because you're marrying the man of your dreams?"

"That, too."

"What were you going to say?"

"That no matter what, I'm going to have hot incredible sex tonight. Uh-oh, Mom's glaring at me. Got to go. Bye."

Massie handed the phone back to Derrick. "Let's go by the house first." She said. "If the fire didn't reach the second floor, maybe I can find something suitable to wear in the wedding."

"Your clothes are going to smell like smoke." He remarked. "But the dry cleaners could probably clean the dress before five."

She mentally went through her wardrobe of once-upon-a-time clothes. That's what she called them, the beautiful designer dresses and suits that she had bought before when she still had money. The ice blue Versace might do or the peach Armani. Both of the formal dresses were long, and her high-heeled sandals would work with either one. If the clothes had been destroyed in the fire, she didn't know what she could wear. The local ladies' dress shop didn't carry formal attire.

"What else do you have to do before the wedding?" Derrick asked.

"Find a place to stay tonight." She said. "I'll wait until tomorrow to pack up whatever I could salvage from the house. It's too overwhelming to think about today. We have to get a suit for you to wear to the wedding." She added. "Did you bring one with you?"

"Yeah. I brought one just in case." He answered.

"Good. We'll drop the at the cleaners, too." She sounded weary.

"Cheer up, honey. It's going to get better."

She tried to think of something optimistic. "It's a nice day for a wedding, isn't it?"

"Was your friend upset about the dress?"

"No." Massie replied. She smiled then. "Claire doesn't get upset about things like that. She told me nothing could ruin this day for her."

The phone rang, but it wasn't Morganstern, as Derrick had hoped. Noah was on the line, wanting to know when he and Massie would be coming to the abbey.

"Is Aiden worried?" Derrick asked.

"No." Noah answered. "He just wants to know if we should hang around or not."

"We'll be there in about an hour. Make him stay put."

Massie was getting hungry but she didn't want to take time to eat. There was so much to get accomplished before tonight, and it was already going on noon.

They reached Westchester and wound their way down the quiet streets to her house.

"You know what Claire told me?" Massie asked Derrick. "Lonnie didn't make the newspaper. She thought Steve Brenner set the fire."

"Joe told me he'd pick him up and take him to Philadelphia State Prison." He said. "He and Brenner could share a cell."

"You wish you were there, don't you?"

He glanced at her as he admitted, "Yeah, I do. I'd love to sit in on the interrogation. Look Brenner in the eyes. Then I'd know for sure."

"That he's the unsub."

"No, that he isn't."

"I want you to be wrong."

"I know you do." He sounded sympathetic.

"Until last night, I never would have believed Steve could be a Peeping Tom."

"That's because you haven't seen the dark side of good old Steve."

"I certainly saw it last night. His face was contorted with hate, and the venom spewing out of his mouth shocked me. I think he is capable anything, even murder. You know what strikes me as odd though?"

"What's that?"

"Steve's always been very uptight, around me anyway. He's very controlling, or organized as you would call him. Always planning." She added with a nod. He was pretty smooth the way he manipulated the shop owners into selling. He'd purchased five stores before the town found out what he was up to. He was sneaky and very clever, wouldn't you agree?"

"So?"

"So he had to have known from reputation alone how volatile and unpredictable Lonnie was. Why would he involve him?"

"Maybe he thought he could use him as his scapegoat."

"Maybe." She agreed. "How did Steve get in the house?"

"He came in through the back door. He broke the glass, reached in and unlocked the deadbolt. It was sloppy." He added.

"I think Lonnie was looking for another way in through the window."

"You told me he was on the roof."

"I heard him outside the bathroom window."

"But you didn't see him, did you?"

"No." She answered him. "He could have been checking to make sure no one was home. He didn't see me. I dropped to the floor the second I saw the light."

Derrick pulled to a stop sign and waited while two little boys, about seven or eight years old, rode their bikes across the intersection. What were their parents thinking to let them out of their sight? Hell, anyone could grab them. Anything could happen and they wouldn't know about it until it's too late.

His attention turned to Massie. "Lonnie had a flashlight?"

"No, it was more like a penlight, a red one."

"A red penlight… you mean like a laser beam, maybe?"

"Yes, exactly."

"Why didn't you tell me this last night?" He demanded impatiently.

"I told you Lonnie was on the roof."

"The son of a bitch could have had you in his sights," His face was tight with anger. "Where in God's name would he get his hands on that kind of equipment?"

"From his father's cabinet." She answered. "The sheriff prides himself on his gun collection, and Lonnie would have easy access."

Derrick picked up his phone and started dialing. "And that's why you came out of the bathroom."

"Yes." She said. "Who are you calling?"

"Farley." He replied. "He can find out if Lonnie was on that roof or not."

"Who else could it have been?"

Derrick didn't answer her.

Agent Farley was just about to step onto a plane in Philadelphia when his phone rang. When he heard Derrick's voice, he moved away from the crows filling on board.

"You just caught me." He said. "Another minute and I would have turned my phone off."

"Did you pick up Lonnie?"

"No." he answered. "He's gone to ground, and I've been reassigned. Wesson's letting the Philly sheriff and his deputies to go after Lonnie and bring him in."

"Is Feinberg still around, or did Wesson send him packing?"

"I'm not sure." Farley answered. "They both went to Philly with Brenner." He said. "And they could still be there. This isn't sitting right with you, is it, Derrick? You don't think Brenner's our man."

"No, I don't." He said. "But I don't have anything to prove it yet."

"This could be an easy case, and you've just never had one of those before."

"Yeah, maybe."

"Are you going to stay in Westchester?"

"Yes."

"Sorry I had to bail on you, man, but I didn't have a choice. As soon as Wesson e-mailed headquarters and let them know I was ready for reassignment, they pounced."

"Where are you headed?"

"Detroit. There's a situation brewing there, and it's a messy one. Be thankful you're on vacation."

"You be careful." Derrick said. "And Joe, thank for helping."

"A lot of damn good I did. I'll tell you this. I've worked with Wesson a couple of times in the past, and he was always a pain in the ass, but he was never this difficult. I think it's you." He added. "You bring out the worst in him. He's gone too far this time though. I'm never going to work with that egomaniac again, even if it means handing in my badge. By the book, my ass. Wesson doesn't know what teamwork is, and that's what's going in my report." Joe paused a second. "Derrick, you know what's worrying me?"

"Getting on that plane?"

"No, that's your hang-up, not mine. It's that gut feeling of yours."

"What about it?"

"Well, if you're right, and Brenner isn't the unsub, then you and Noah are out there all alone. God help you."

**I can't answer all your questions right now because I'm in a hurry. I have some place to go. So, bye. For now.**

**Review?**


	30. Chapter 28

**This chapter is dedicated to _gallaghergrl, Karri, _and _Crazieness. _**

**I own nothing. **

Chapter 28

Massie found a couple of gowns that would work for the wedding, and after they dropped off the clothes at the cleaners, they drove to the abbey. The abbey was surrounded by Aiden's bodyguards but Derrick and Massie paid little attention to them.

Noah was in the kitchen eating cold friend chicken with all the trimmings. Derrick pulled out a chair for Massie as he grabbed a chicken leg.

"You should eat something, honey." He said.

Noah's right eyebrow shot up, and his gaze bounced between Massie's flushed face and Derrick's pained expression. Then he burst into laughter. "It took you long enough."

"Don't start." Derrick warned.

"Don't start what?" Noah asked innocently.

"Derrick calls everyone honey." Massie blurted, feeling like a fool.

"Sure he does." Noah agreed. "He's been calling me and your brothers honey every chance he gets."

"Leave it alone." Derrick insisted. "Where's Aiden?"

"He's in one of the conference rooms with the editor woman."

Massie groaned. "What does she want?"

Noah shrugged. "Beats me."

Derrick heard a door close behind him and crossed the kitchen to look out the window. He saw Olivia hurry down the stairs.

"Where did this feast come from?" Massie asked Noah.

"Noah's fan club which formed the minute he stepped out of the car." Aiden answered from the doorway.

Noah grinned that heart-stopping grin. "What can I say? The ladies love me."

Massie stood up and ran to Aiden. She gave him a brief, affectionate hug before pulling away and putting her hands on her hips. She glared at him, too.

"What?" Aiden feigned innocence.

"Why didn't you tell me about Adam?" She asked furiously though she deliberately kept her voice low.

Her brother had the gall to shrug. "I didn't want you to worry." When she deepened her scowl, he said, "Adam's fine, Mass. He's recovering and Spencer's in New York, sitting with him at the hospital."

"But ─"

Aiden cut her off by saying in a hard voice, "I have to talk to you in private."

Derrick gave her an I-told-you-he'd-know look and he, too, stood up. "Aiden, you and I have to talk."

"No!" Massie all but shouted as she turned around to glance from Aiden to Derrick then back again. "What do you want to talk about?"

"Olivia was just here." Aiden said.

"What did she want?" Massie asked. "She has enough news to keep her busy for the next month, what with the fire and Steve Brenner. Is she trying to figure out a way to blame me for all that, too?"

"She is writing another article about you, but it doesn't have anything to do with the fire or Brenner. She wanted confirmation from me. It seems she ran into the banker's wife, who mentioned the money you borrowed for your store, and one bit of gossip led to another. Damn it, Massie," he said, his voice shaking with anger. "why didn't you tell me your trust was gone? All this time, I thought you were fine and I wouldn't have to worry about you."

Massie was stunned by Olivia's audacity. "I had to fill out a financial statement, and I had to explain about the trust in order to get the loan." She cried. "But the banker had nor right to tell anyone, not even his wife. That was confidential information. And how dare Olivia poke her nose in my affairs." She took a step toward her brother. "Did you just hear what you told me, Aiden? All this time you thought I was fine and you wouldn't have to worry about me? I'm not ten years old, Aiden, but you can't seem to get that through your head. The money was gone before I turned twenty-one and could do anything about it. The lawyers in France took it. Every cent. I didn't tell you because I knew you'd get upset. You had a lot to think about that time what with the hotel in Bahamas coming up and Spencer was busy with Seattle and Adam's career was just brewing. Plus, there was nothing any of you could do about it."

"Millions of dollars… the only thing that mother and father left for you gone? When I signed your trust to have them take care of it, have it safe in the bank of France, I thought…"

Her brother's expression made her want to cry. He looked devastated. And horribly disappointed in her. He made her feel as though she had squandered the money.

"It wasn't your sister's fault." Derrick said quietly.

"I know that." He snapped.

"You're not acting like you do."

Aiden's shoulders slumped. "When exactly did you find out that the money was gone?" His face was red with the anger he was trying to contain.

"On my twenty-first birthday."

"You should have told your family then. Maybe something could have been done."

Noah knew it wasn't his place to interfere, but he couldn't stop himself. He looked Aiden in the eye and said, "What family? From what I've gathered, you and your brothers didn't concern yourself with whatever happened to her while she stayed with your grandparents here in Westchester. When they died almost after a year or two, she was all alone and you and Spencer and Adam were too busy with your own lives. So, basically, she had no family while she kicked her ass through high school and college. Who the hell exactly was she supposed to tell?"

"I'm her family." Aiden rained.

"Try to see it her way." Noah insisted. "When you were growing up, you and your brothers had been preoccupied with building a hotel empire. Your jobs became your family."

"My sister will always be part of my family." Aiden said.

"She was here while you and Spencer and Adam were busy going around the world. You can't change the way things were. The guilt is making you angry because she was left out in the cold."

Aiden looked tormented. Massie slowly shook her head and went to him. "That's not true. I wasn't out in the cold. I always knew you and Adam and Spencer were always there for me. I always knew you loved me. Aiden, please don't be angry."

He put his arms around her and hugged her. "it just came as a shock, that's all. Don't keep things from me, Massie. Big brothers are supposed to look after their little sisters no matter how old they are."

"I don't expect you to solve my problems for me."

"No, I know you don't, but you should at least talk to me about them."

She nodded. "Yes, okay."

"When's the article going to run?" Derrick asked, trying to figure out a way to stop it.

"It's not going to be on the paper. Olivia and I had a talk."

Noah grinned. "Did you threaten her with the wrath of Aiden Block?"

Aiden wasn't amused. "No, I didn't, but I did tell her that I could get the best lawyers in the United States and I could sue her with trespassing. That didn't set her out, though."

"What did?" Massie asked suspiciously.

"I talked to her about being jealous of you. She didn't like hearing that but she finally agreed not to run the article. She's afraid other people will think she's jealous of you because she's gone after you so many times."

"I need a glass of milk." Massie said. Her stomach was upset, thanks to Olivia, and she hoped a glass of water would settle it.

"I'll get it. You go sit down." Aiden offered.

Noah pushed her plate in front of her. "Eat." He suggested.

"Isn't there anything you can do about those lawyers?" Derrick asked her.

"I am doing something." She said.

Aiden poked his head out of the pantry. "What?" He asked.

"I'm suing them."

Aiden grabbed a glass and hurried back into the kitchen. "You're suing?"

"Yes." She said. "The day after I found out, I started searching. It took a year to find an attorney who was willing to take on the giants."

"David against Goliath, huh?" Noah asked.

"You know, Noah, you're starting to think like a priest. Maybe you ought to consider joining up." Derrick teased.

"I'm friends with the abbot. I could recommend you, you know." Aiden joined.

Noah grimaced. "That's not going to happen."

Massie stood up, fetched milk from the refrigerator and poured some into her glass. She walked back to resume her seat.

"But what about the suit? What's happening?" Aiden asked as soon as she sat.

The teasing atmosphere evaporated as soon as it appeared.

She took a drink before she answered. "I won the first round, and then I won again. They've been dragging it out with motions to delay but my attorney told me that this next round is the last appeal. I should hear something soon. Win or lose, it will be final."

"So, there's a good possibility you could get the money back."

"It could go either way." She said. "I'm prepared for either outcome."

"No wonder you drive that junky old car." Derrick said. "You've been living on a shoestring."

He was smiling at her, as though he thought she had done something remarkable.

"I budget like most people do." She said. "And I happen to like my car."

The conversation came to an abrupt end when the sheriff came storming into the kitchen.

"Where the hell is my boy?" He demanded in a snarl. He had his gun half drawn when he shouted, "What have you done with him?"

Derrick's back was to the door, but Noah sat facing the stampeding sheriff. In a heartbeat, his hand reached inside his black robe and pointed the gun under the table at Lloyd. "You pull that weapon out and you're a dead man."

Lloyd stopped, frozen in his tracks.

Massie hadn't even had time to turn in her chair before Derrick had whirled around and drawn his weapon. He was standing now, shielding her, and the barrel of his gun was pressed against Lloyd's temple.

Aiden came up behind the sheriff and took the gun away from him. Then he calmly suggested that Lloyd sit down and discuss the problem in a reasonable manner.

"I'm the authority here." Lloyd bellowed.

"No, you're not." Derrick informed him. He put his gun back in the holster and told the sheriff to do as Aiden had said and sit down.

Lloyd chose the chair at the far end of the table. "Give me my gun back."

Aiden handed Derrick the weapon, and he quickly unloaded the magazine before he slid the gun toward the sheriff.

"What seems to be the problem?" Aiden asked.

"My boy." He muttered. "He's gone missing. That's what the problem is."

"He's hiding." Derrick told him. "He started the fire, and now he's hiding."

Lloyd shook his head. "I ain't gonna get into all that fire business 'cause you and I see it different from each other. My boy knows he's got me for his alibi. He wouldn't think he had to hide. He was in bed, sleeping sound, when I got home from Philly. I was dead tired." He added. "Up most of the night, and I was just getting myself in bed when the low-life sheriff from Philly knocked on my door. He said he was gonna take Lonnie and book him on arson. We argued a bit, but then I decided to let the lawyers handle it, and I let him on in. Lonnie weren't in his bed though and the window was wide open."

Derrick glanced at Noah who promptly shook his head to let him know he hadn't done anything with Lonnie or had asked someone to take care of the job.

Derrick said then, "Maybe Wesson decided to pick him up."

"That ain't what happened." The sheriff was whining now. "He's still with the other cooped up with Brenner in a two-by-four room, questioning him. They wouldn't let me listen in, didn't want me to know nothing that was going on. I finally gave up and was heading out the doors when I heard they were accusing him of murder. One of the sheriff's deputies told me they had the goods on him." He took his hat off and rubbed his brow. "It's all going in the toilet."

"Do you really care what happens to Lonnie?" Derrick asked bluntly.

The question flustered the sheriff. Seeing the turmoil in Lloyd's face, Massie took over. He dragged a chair to the end of the table and sat down next to Lloyd. "Your son's given you a lot of heartache over the years, hasn't he, sheriff?"

The sheriff's voice dropped to a whisper. "He ain't never been right in the head. Never. He's got a real mean temper."

Massie coaxed Lloyd to talk, urging him to let go of all the anger and disappointment he'd kept inside for so long, and within minutes, the sheriff was spilling his guts, telling her the problems he'd had to clean up for his son. The list was appallingly lengthy.

"He's done some terrible things. I know he has, but he's my son, and I had to protect him. I'm so sick of it. I know I'm supposed to care about the boy, but I can't, not anymore. I've still got to find him because if I don't and he comes home, he'll be… upset with me, and I don't want that to happen." He wiped at his eyes as he confessed, "I'm ashamed to admit it, but I'm afraid of my own boy. He's going to kill me one of these days. He's come damn close a couple of times already."

"Maybe it's time Lonnie learned the consequences of his actions." Noah suggested.

"He'll come after me. I know he will."

"You need time to think about your options." Aiden said. "Why don't you get in your car and leave Westchester for a week or two, just until things calm down and Lonnie's behind bars?"

The sheriff leapt at the idea. "What will folks say? I don't want them thinking I'm running away."

"They won't think that." Massie said. "You are entitled to take some time off, aren't you?"

"Sure, I am." He agreed. "And maybe… just maybe I won't ever come back. I'll leave it all here, not pack a thing, so that my boy won't think I'm gone for good. Then he won't come looking for me."

"They'll catch him and put him behind bars." Noah said. "You'd be sure to let us know where you are."

The sheriff was suddenly in a hurry to get out of town. He was already out the door before Noah had finished making that reminder.

**I'm not in the mood for long A/Ns today. Yeah, I'm so tired. :( Sorry, guys. **

**Anyway, review?**


	31. Chapter 29

**This chapter's dedicated to _analuvspjlogan, krissy0405, _and _CCrawfordox._**

**I own nothing.**

Chapter 29

Derrick tried to get Wesson on his cell phone but he didn't answer. Then he tried Feinberg and got his voice mail. His frustration mounted. He kept glancing at his watch. Morganstern should have landed in Houston by now. Why the hell hadn't he returned his call?

Aiden had gone back into the pantry in search of potato chips and Derrick followed him. Massie heard him tell her brother that he shouldn't let his guard down until Derrick was convinced Brenner was the unsub.

The two stood in the panty and talked. It appeared that Aiden was doing most of the talking. Massie was so busy watching the two of them, she didn't noticed that Noah was watching her.

"Stop worrying." He said.

She turned her attention to her food. "I'm not worrying."

"Sure you are. You think Derrick's going to tell Aiden that he slept with you."

She didn't even think about trying to deny it. She looked into those devilish blue eyes and asked, "Are you always this blunt?"

He laughed. "Yeah, I am."

"How did you know?"

"The way both of you are avoiding looking at each other. I've known Derrick a long time." He added. "But I've never seen him this uptight. I figure you're the reason."

She picked up a chicken wing and put it down. "Derrick might tell Aiden."

"You think so?"

"Yes, I do, and Aiden's going to be upset, being my overbearingly control freak big brother."

"Maybe." He shrugged. "But you're a big girl now and it really isn't any of his business."

"He won't see it that way."

"So how long have you been in love with Derrick?"

"How do you know I am?"

He chuckled again. "I know women."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning I know you're not the kind of woman who would go to bed with a man unless you loved him. Derrick knows that, too. You must be scaring the hell out of him now."

"I do scare him. He doesn't want any of the things I want but he doesn't want to hurt me. Last night was a mistake." She whispered. "And now it's over." She added. She tried to sound as though she'd already moved on but she knew she'd failed when Noah patted her hand.

"Did it feel like a mistake last night?" he asked.

She shook her head. "No, but like you just said, I'm a big girl. I can get on with my life. I'm not easily shattered."

"No, of course you're not."

"You're humoring me, aren't you?"

"Uh-huh."

"Let's talk about something else." She suggested. "Could I ask you something?"

"Sure. What do you want to know?"

"How come Wesson dislike Derrick so much?"

"It goes way back." He said.

"But what started the antagonism?" she asked with another quick glance at Derrick.

"I guess you could say it was a cat that started the rivalry, although now that I think about it, Derrick's attitude also played a part. He was new to the section, and he thought he knew it all. Morganstern had only just gotten the okay to run the Apostles and Derrick was his second recruit."

"Who was the first recruit?" She inquired.

"I was." He answered with a smug grin. "Pete was handpicking his agents, getting them from outside and putting them through his own special training program, but that wasn't going to happen."

"Did Wesson become one of Morganstern's recruits?"

"No. Morganstern didn't take him in and that really chafed."

"So that's what started it?"

"No, it was a cat." He patiently repeated. "There was this particular case. A three-year-old girl was missing and the FBI was called in. Wesson was on the rotation schedule and there was no way he was going to let one of Morganstern's hotshots come in and take over. Wesson wanted to solve the case and solve it quick."

"Did he?"

"No, but Derrick did. Here's what happened. The little girl was with her mother in a department store. The building was really old with wooden floors that squeaked and groaned whenever you walk on them, and high plastered ceilings and big old vents along the baseboards. It was really drafty and cold inside. The building was located near a warehouse and the city market right next to the river. It was a nice little shopping area, all the buildings had been buffed and restored, but there was a problem with rats, and so the owner of this particular family-owned department store kept a cat there."

"Go on." She urged, wanting Noah to finish before Derrick and Aiden returned.

"It was around noon on the Saturday before Christmas and the score was crowded with last minute Christmas shoppers. It was real chaotic and loud, with Christmas music blaring but one salesclerk happened to notice a man in his midthirties wandering around in the store. She thought he might be a shoplifter. He was wearing beat-up old clothes and a long gray raincoat. She said it was dirty and torn. She couldn't give a great description other than to say he was thin and had a scraggily beard. She told us she was going to call security, but then she saw him heading for the front door, and she thought he was leaving. She was being pulled in twenty different directions by impatient customers.

"A customer in line remembered seeing the man squat down next to the little girl and talk to her. She said the mother had elbowed her way to the counter and was digging through her purse, looking for her credit card, and she didn't notice her daughter was talking to the stranger. Then the customer said the man got up and walked away."

"Did he take the little girl?"

Noah didn't answer the question. "Another customer said she almost tripped over the child when she darted out in front of her. The little girl was chasing the cat." He added. "About five or ten minutes later, the mother frantically searched for her daughter. Everyone was helping, of course, and then the clerk remembered the man in the raincoat, and the customer remembered she'd seen him talking to the child. The security guard called the police while the owner called the FBI. To his credit, Wesson got there fast." He said with a grimace. "Morganstern got the call from Wesson's superior and he wanted Derrick and me to get a little experience, and so he sent us in, but neither one of us could get there until late that night. I came in from Chicago while Derrick caught a plane out of Dallas. He got in about fifteen minutes before I did, rented a car, got a map, and picked me up."

"Wesson wasn't happy to see you, was he?"

"That's putting it mildly. It didn't matter to us though. He didn't have any authority over us. We reported to Morganstern and no one else. Wesson was extremely reluctant to share what he had with us and that really pissed Derrick off. When he gets mad, his temper's worse than mine." Noah said with admiration in his voice.

"What did he do?"

"He let Wesson know what he thought of him. Derrick could have been more diplomatic, but, anyway, he backed Wesson into a corner and Wesson told him he had a suspect, and that the situation was under control, which of course wasn't the case. Wesson also went on record as saying that Morganstern's team was a waste of time and money and that Derrick and I should go home and find real jobs."

"In other words, butt out."

"Yes." Noah said. "Of course, we didn't care what Wesson thought or wanted. We had a job to do and we were going to do it with or without his approval. While Derrick was looking around, I got one of the other field agents aside and read his notes."

"Was the little girl alright? Just tell me, please. Did you find her in time?"

"Yeah, we did, thanks to Derrick." He said. "It was one of those too few happy endings."

"How did he find her?"

"I'm getting to that." He said. "Everyone left the store. It was around two in the morning, and it was freezing inside that building. Wesson had set up a command post at the police station a couple of blocks away, and every available man was out on the streets searching for the man in the raincoat. Derrick and I were standing on the curb outside the store, trying to figure out what we were supposed to do. The security guard was locking the doors to go home when Derrick told him he wanted to go back inside. He convinced that old man to turn the alarm off and give us the keys.

"Both of us went through the building from top to bottom again. We found nothing so we left. I was driving." He said. "I wasn't sure where I was headed. I was just trying to clear my mind the way Morganstern taught us, and I remember I had just driven past a hospital when I asked Derrick what the hell we were going to do, being squeezed out by Wesson the way we were."

Noah paused to smile and then added, "Derrick didn't say anything. He popped a piece of gum in his mouth and I figured he was doing the same thing I was trying to do. You know, trying to clear his mind. And all of a sudden, he turned to me and said, 'So, where's the cat?'

"We started doing what Morganstern would probably call a little free-associating then. Kids love animals, most do anyway, and a customer had reported she'd seen the little girl chasing after the cat. We both figured out what might have happened then. I was driving like a bat out of hell, trying to get back to the department store as fast as I could, but then I saw the hospital emergency entrance and I pulled in. Derrick and I went running into the emergency room, flashed our badges, and grabbed a doctor who was just going on a break. Derrick told him to come with us and bring his stethoscope with him."

"The little girl was still in the department store, wasn't she?"

"Sure she was." He replied. "She went in one of those big old vents after the cat." He explained. "Crawling around on the floors by the walls, no one would have noticed her, as busy and crowded the store was. The vent didn't hold her, and she went down two and a half floors and got trapped on a ledge above the basement. The fall should have killed her." He added. "She had hit her head and was unconscious when we finally got to her. The cat stayed with her. We could hear the faint meowing through the stethoscope."

"But she was alright."

He smiled again. "Yeah, she was okay."

"You and Derrick must have been jubilant."

"Yeah, we were, but we were also frustrated with ourselves at the same time. Both of us had missed the obvious. We let the guy in the raincoat get in our way." He said. "We should have noticed the vent the girl crawled into was a little bit off-kilter from the others, but we missed it. And we shouldn't have taken so long to note the cat was missing."

"You found her within hours of your arrival." She pointed out.

"But if we had been more observant, we could have cut the time in half. We were damn lucky she was still alive. She could have been bleeding down there, and if that had been the case, we would have been too late."

Massie knew that nothing she could say would change his opinion of his performance.

"Normally, Wesson would have been just as happy and relieved as everyone else." He said.

"He wasn't?" She asked, appalled.

"He's not a monster, or at least he wasn't back then." He qualified. "But jealousy was eating him up. Sure he was happy the little girl was safe…"

"But?"

"But Derrick deliberately left him out. He should have told Wesson what he suspected and let him run with the ball." Noah paused for a moment. "Yeah, that's what he should have done, but I'm glad he didn't. Tit for tat, as childish as that was. And in his defense, and mine because I backed him, we were young and stupid back then, and neither one of us gave a damn about career politics. We still don't. Derrick had to make sure the kid was there, and so did I. Anyway, Wesson had to find out about the girl after the fact, from Morganstern. Derrick and I were already on our way to the airport. Derrick had wanted to prove a point, but he had humiliated Wesson, and ever since then, the mere mention of his name or mine gets the same kind of reaction as pouring salt on an open wound. Neither one of us have had to work with him since, until this case."

Massie propped her elbow on the table, resting her chin in the palm of her hand. She stared at Noah, but didn't really see him. She was thinking about the story he had just told her.

Until this moment, there had been a tiny little hope in the back of her mind that Derrick would quit his job. And, oh God, how selfish and wrong she had been to want such a thing.

"Life doesn't have any guarantees, does it?" She said.

"No, you've got to grab what you can while you can. Derrick's good at what he does, but he's burning out. I can see it in his eyes. The stress is going to kill him if he doesn't get some balance in his life. He needs someone like you to come home to at night."

"He doesn't want that." She argued.

"He may not want it, but he sure as hell needs it."

"What about you?"

"We're not talking about me." He wouldn't let her sway the topic. "You and Derrick are something else, you know that? Being on the outside, observing, it's really easy to see what's going on. Want me to enlighten you? I'll warn you in advance. You won't like what I have to say."

"Go ahead." She said. "Enlighten me. I can take it."

"Okay." He agreed. "Here's the way I see it. You and Derrick are both trying to alter reality. You're both running away from life. Don't argue with m until I'm finished." He told her when he saw she was about to interrupt. "Derrick's trying to close himself up, to distance himself from everyone, even his family, and that's a big mistake in his line of work. He needs to _feel_ because that's the only way he's going to stay sharp and focused. I can see he's getting to the point where he doesn't want to take a chance on feeling anything at all because that would make him too damned vulnerable. I he keeps going this way, he's going to become hard and cynical. And he sure as hell won't be any good at his job. Now as for you…"

"Yes?" She straightened in his chair, tense now as she waited for his verdict about her.

"You're doing the same thing, just in a different way. You're hiding out here in this little town. I know you don't see it that way, but that's what you're doing. You're more afraid of taking a chance than Derrick is. If you don't put yourself out there, you can't get hurt. That's how you view life, isn't it? And if you keep going this way, you're going to turn into a bitter, old, dried-up prune, and a coward to boot."

She knew Noah wasn't deliberately trying to be cruel but what he had just said devastated her. Was that how he saw her? Massie shrank back and gripped her hands together. A coward? How could he think she would ever become a coward?

"I don't believe you understand ─"

He cut her off. "I'm not finished. There's more. Want to hear it?"

She braced herself. "Yes, go ahead."

"I saw one of your paintings."

Her gaze flew to his. "Where?" She asked, astonished. Why did she feel the sudden pang of fear?

"It's in the room Aiden's staying in here." He told her. "And it's the one of the most powerful paintings I've ever seen. You should be damned proud of it. I'm not the only person who thought it was incredible. The abbot wanted to hang it in the church. Aiden wanted to put you up an art gallery in every Hamilton Hotel. Aiden stole it earlier this morning when we passed by your home. He already knew you kept all your paintings wrapped up tight and hidden away in your storage closet so no one could see them. That's one sure way to beat rejection, isn't it? It's safe. Like the kind of life you're building here. Well, guess what, babe. There's no such thing as a safe life. Bad things happen like your brother Adam attempting suicide, and there isn't a damned thing you can do about it. You're sure trying though, aren't you? Maybe thirty years from now, you'll have convinced yourself that you're content with your perfect, safe life, but I assure you it's going to be lonely. And by then, the amazing talent you have will probably have dried up."

Massie shuddered under the weight of the future Noah had just described. He was forcing her to open her eyes and take a hard look at herself.

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"Yeah, I do. You just don't want to hear it."

She bowed her head as she mentally argued against his bleak prophecy. Perhaps when she suggested to be moved to Westchester after her mother died, she had been running away from life. But it wasn't like that now. She'd fallen in love with the town and the people, and she had become involved with the community. She hadn't just sat back and let the world revolve around her.

Noah was right about her painting. She had always considered it too personal to share with anyone else. It was a part of her, and if others saw her work and rejected it, she felt that they would also be rejecting her.

She had been a coward. And she would lose what little talent she had if she kept on this path. If she didn't experience life, how could she possibly translate it onto canvas?

"I don't throw them anyway." She admitted hesitantly. "I keep the paintings."

Noah grinned. "So maybe you might think of unwrapping them one of these days and letting people see them."

"Maybe." She said, After a moment's reflection, she looked at him and smiled. "Yes, I should do that."

Noah took his plate to the sink and rolled up his sleeves as he prepared to do the dishes. He was complaining about the fact why the abbot won't spend money on a dishwasher while he worked.

Massie wasn't paying attention. She was still lost in thought. Noah had just given her a wake-up call. He'd opened the door for her and she had the choice of going outside or pulling the doors closed again.

When Aiden came back into the kitchen, Noah told him, "I told Massie you took one of her paintings."

Aiden immediately took a defensive stance. "I stole it and I'm not sorry. You want it back now, don't you?"

"Which one is it?" She asked. Suddenly, she was hungry. She took a bite of the chicken and reached for cold biscuit.

"The only one the officer could get his hands on since the others were covered in a thick mat of dust." Aiden said. "Do you know what's a crying shame, Massie? It's the only painting you've done that either of your brothers has seen."

"But which one is it?"

"The kids in the wheat field with all that light shining down on them. I love it, Mass, and I want to have it posted in the lobby at the Hamilton Hotel in New York. You know why? Because there's such joy and hope in it. When I look at it, I see heaven smiling on the children. It's as though the streams of light are actually God's fingers reaching down to touch them."

Emotion welled up inside her. She knew that he meant every word he said. Joy and hope. What a great compliment. "Okay, Aiden. You can keep it."

Her brother looked shocked. "Really?"

"Yes." She answered. "I'm so happy that you like it. And it's the truth that that was the first time I've ever heard you give a fervent and emotional speech without a hundred people watching you in floor length gowns and coat-and-tie suits." She teased.

Aiden glared at her. "I'll kick your ass if you ever tell anyone about that." He softened that rebuke by walking over behind her and giving her a hug.

Derrick wasn't about to be left out. "Damn it, I want to see it." He said.

"Alright." She agreed after pulling away from her brother.

Noah winked at her and she suddenly felt like laughing. "Yes, I mean it, but I'll warn you, it's not one of my best efforts. I can do much better."

Derrick's phone rang, interrupting the conversation. Smile vanished in a heartbeat and the atmosphere in the kitchen became tense with anticipation. Derrick answered as he walked towards the pantry for privacy.

Pete was on the line and he had stunning news. Tiffany Tara Tyler's phone had been found in Steve Brenner's white van, neatly tucked under the front seat. This new piece of evidence had put a lock on the case. They had their man.

"Did they find any prints?" Derrick asked.

"He wiped them off but he still was sloppy." Pete answered. "He missed a spot on the bottom of the phone. The tech found what seemed like a partial thumbprint next to metal charger. He thinks it's enough for a solid match. It looks like they're about to wrap this one up, Derrick."

Derrick was shaking his head. "It doesn't feel right." He paused and added, "So, that's it? I mean, case closed, right?"

"Just about." Pete agreed. "There's other evidence, of course. But as I understand the situation, Agent Wesson didn't share the information he had about Brenner with you."

"How did you know that?"

"I briefly spoke with Agent Wesson."

"So he has enough evidence to convict Brenner?"

"With the woman's phone in Steve Brenner's car, yes, he has enough evidence."

"That could have been planted."

"We don't think that's the case." Pete said. "Had you been given the information as it was collected, I think you'd be feeling more confident that Brenner's our man. You were kept out of the investigation." He added. "And I plan to address that problem to Agent Wesson's supervisor first thing in Monday morning. I assure you this won't happen again." He said. "And as for you, I suggest you take Massie's brothers shooting or fishing. Relax. You deserve it."

Derrick rubbed the back of his neck, trying to ease the knots of tension. He was weary and frustrated. "I don't know, Pete. My instincts are telling me that this is all wrong. I think I'm losing it."

"Your objectivity?" Pete asked.

"Yeah, I guess. I really did figure it all wrong. Tell me something. They're running a voice match from the phone call he made to Massie and Brenner's interrogation, aren't they?"

"Yes, of course they are."

"Brenner hasn't confessed, has he?"

"No, not yet."

Derrick was filled with self-doubt. Maybe he didn't just want to believe what was staring him in the face. From the very beginning, Wesson had put him in the position of trying to work the case blindfolded. Tiffany's phone was found in Brenner's van. That should have clinched it. And yet he was still not convinced.

"Why are you fighting this?" Pete asked. "We've got a good result here."

Derrick sighed. "Yes, sir, I know. I guess I do need to take some time off. You were right." He finally admitted. "I got too personally involved."

"With Massie?"

"You saw that coming?" Derrick sounded incredulous.

"Oh, yes."

"Yeah, well, I'll deal with that later. You'll let me know what the lab results are?"

"Yes, I promise." Pete agreed. "Give my best to Aiden and Massie."

Derrick disconnected the call and stood in the pantry for a long minute, staring off into space. He was trying to work it out in his mind, to go with it, to believe that it was over. He told himself he was trying to make the case more complicated than it was. Some cases were easy. Like this one. Yeah, it was finished. Case closed. They had their man.

And still the nagging doubt wouldn't go away.

**Responses to your reviews:**

**_xoxoDDLSG _- Yeah. I know some chapters are too long but I really can't stop my fingers from writing. I'm thinking of bandaging it. Stupid fingers. :)**

**_Karri - _Sorry if it gets boring but the fill-ins are significant. And I did say that I'll go slow with this story, give it a natural flow. So I'm sorry if it's getting boring but I promise you the next chapters won't be.**

_**Kittykatgurl21 **_**- Derrick's not a man without compassion. He sees how the sheriff's truly afraid of his son and since they didn't have any evidence that points them to Sheriff Lloyd, he didn't find any thing wrong with letting him go. And he knew that Sheriff Lloyd knew better than to hide from them.**

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	32. Chapter 30

**This chapter is dedicated to _shadowinthedark13, analuvspjlogan, _and _figureskatingismypassion. _To _taytertotblock : _Sure, I don't mind. I'm kinda excited reading your version. :)**

******I own nothing. **

Chapter 30

The nightmare was finally over. Massie and Aiden were astounded when they heard that Tiffany's phone was found in Brenner's van. Nevertheless, both brother and sister were overjoyed that the killer was behind bars. Aiden immediately called Spencer and shared the news with him. They talked briefly before the phone was handed to Massie. She nagged her brother into letting her talk to Adam. Eventually, sister won over brother. Grudgingly and muttering that she still was a brat, Spencer handed the phone to Adam.

"You're so stupid!" Massie blurted out of indignation as soon as Adam said hello.

She caught Aiden shooting her a warning glare but she ignored him.

"Yeah, well, ya wanna bet?" Adam teased.

Massie sighed, smiling. No matter how upset she was, she couldn't hold her anger when it came to her big brothers. "How are you? I miss you." She said sweetly.

"I'm strapped in IVs, I'm wearing this ugly thing they call gown ─ dear God, can you imagine me saying that for real? ─, I can't eat food that I want without throwing them up, and I'm stuck with our pissed and overbearingly control freak brother." Massie laughed when she heard Spencer saying "Hey!" in the background. "Other than those, I'm fine. So, what about you?"

Massie glanced around. "I'm fine. Talk to you later, 'kay?"

"Something's bothering you." Adam noted.

Good God, can her brother know how heartbroken she was? If there was someone she could talk about boys with, it was Adam. But that wasn't the case now.

"I'll call you later. After the wedding. Bye. I love you." She disconnected the call and handed it back to Aiden.

She was about to stand up when she heard Noah suggest that they should celebrate. She nixed the idea. She reminded him that a lot of women had been murdered and said that she was going to go into the church to pray for their souls.

"He sure was good at masquerading his voice when he called me in my phone." Massie said. "He fooled me alright." She added with a shake of his head.

"He fooled us all." Aiden said. He decided to join her sister in the church for a prayer.

Massie stood up and looked directly at Derrick when she asked, "So you and Noah will be leaving soon, won't you?"

"Yes." Derrick answered without a second's hesitation.

"No reason to hang around, is there?" Noah stared at Derrick as he asked the question.

"No." He answered curtly. "No reason."

Massie turned away so he wouldn't see how his words had hurt her. She knew she was overreacting. From the beginning, she had known he would leave when his job was finished. His life was in Boston. He had stopped everything to help his friend, but now he would, of course, need to get back home.

"Places to go, people to see…" She said.

"Right." He agreed.

Aiden was holding the door for her. "Come on, Mass. Quit dragging your feet."

She put her napkin down on the table and hurried after her brother. Derrick and Noah followed. When they reached the back of the church, Derrick pulled Noah aside while Massie and Aiden went on ahead to one of the pews and knelt down together.

There were at least a dozen workmen rushing around trying to get the church ready in time for the wedding. Five of them were dismantling the scaffolding from the center aisle while a couple of others were folding up the tarps and carrying paint cans outside. The people from the local flower shop were standing up front holding vases of water lilies, impatiently waiting for Willie and Mark to finish wet mopping the steps and marble floor in front of the altar.

Derrick and Noah moved under the balcony to get out of the way when the double doors opened behind them and two strapping men rolled in a baby grand piano on a dolly.

Justin hurried down the aisle toward them. He was carrying a video camera and had a long, red extension cord looped over his shoulder. He slowed down to say hello.

"Hey, man." One of the men carrying the piano called to him. "Where do you want this?"

"They're putting the choir on the south side of the church in that little alcove."

He backed out of the way so that the men could roll the piano around to the side aisle.

"How come they don't just use the organ?" Noah asked.

Justin turned to answer. "They have to get all those pieces cleaned first. The abbot says all the dust in the air will mess up the cords if it isn't cleaned before it's used again."

"What are you doing with the camera?" Derrick asked.

"I've been roped into filming the ceremony from the balcony." He explained. "Claire's father asked me. He's already got a professional guy filming downstairs but he wants all the angles covered I guess. I don't mind doing it." He added with a grin. "He's paying me a hundred dollars, and I can use the money. Besides that, he's invited Mark and Willie and me to the reception, and we'll get free food and beer. You coming to the wedding?" He asked Derrick and Noah.

"Wouldn't miss it." Derrick said.

"Definitely not." Noah agreed.

"See you two later then." Justin said as he raced on. "I just hope the church is ready. We've got a heck of a lot of work to get done before seven."

They moved out of the way again so that Justin could open the wrought iron gate and go up the stairs to the balcony.

"Okay, what were you going to tell me?" Noah asked as he followed Derrick to the back pew.

"It doesn't feel right." Derrick answered.

"Brenner?"

Derrick nodded. "Maybe I'll be convinced when I see the reports. They've got a thumbprint, a partial anyway, and they're working on a voice match with the phone call he made to Massie. When the results are in confirming Brenner's the unsub, then I'll relax. Until then…"

"You want me to stay."

"Yes. I know Pete's going to be calling you with another assignment ─"

"I'll try to fend him off. Besides, we're going to hear what the techs have concluded by tonight. Tomorrow at the latest."

"I really appreciate this, Noah."

"If it doesn't feel alright with you, then of course I'm staying. Tell me something though. Don't you think you should tell Aiden and Massie you're still having reservations?"

"What am I going to tell? The evidence is pretty conclusive, and God only knows what else Wesson has on Brenner. Besides, Massie and he brothers have been living under a train, and Massie's been looking forward to her friend's wedding. I want her to be able to enjoy herself tonight. You keep your eye on Aiden, and I'll watch out for her."

"No, I'm not going to work that way. You do what you want with Massie, but I'm telling Aiden to stay sharp. I don't want him to relax until you're convinced."

Derrick nodded. "Yeah, okay."

"Did you tell Pete how you're feeling about this?"

"Yes."

"And?"

Derrick shoved his hands in his pockets. "I'm not being objective because I'm too personally involved."

"He could be right."

"When the reports are in, I'll stop worrying."

"Then what?"

"We go home." Derrick said. "Another day, another case."

"You're just going to walk away from her, aren't you?" Noah asked, sounding incredulous. "She's the best thing that has ever happened to you but you're too chicken to take the chance. You're nuts. You know that?"

Derrick answered his friend by turning around and walking away from him.

Claire's father returned from the abbey at a quarter of six to report that the scaffolding had been removed and the red carpet had been rolled down the center aisle. The florist and her assistant were frantically working to tie the bouquets to the ends of each pew. It would be close, he told his wife, but he was sure the church would be ready when the wedding march began.

Claire's mother, a vision in blue chiffon, continued to worry but the bride took all the last-minute wrinkles in stride. She sat on the bed with her back against the headboard and watched Massie dress while she caught her friend up on the lasts gossip she'd heard.

"They've got an APB or ABP ─ whatever the hell it is ─ out on Lonnie now. They're going to charge him with arson and hopefully lock him away for the rest of his life. He's gotten away with so much in the past couple of years. He deserves to rot in prison." She paused to take a sip of lemonade. "And everyone's still in shock about Steve. Don't pin your hair up, Mass. Leave it down."

"Okay." Massie agreed. She picked up the peach silk dress she'd draped over the chair and slipped it on. She had he back to Claire as she zipped the dress up and adjusted the bodice. Then she turned around, full skirt floating about her ankles. "What do you think? Does this work or not? I could wear the blue Versace but I thought this color would blend better with the dark pink dresses the other bridesmaids are wearing."

Mrs. Lyons walked into the bedroom to try once again to hurry her daughter along. She came to an abrupt stop when she saw Massie.

Both mother and daughter appeared to be speechless. Massie felt self-conscious under their close scrutiny. "Say something, Claire." She demanded. "Do you like the dress or not?"

"You look like a princess in fairytale." Claire whispered. "Doesn't she, Mother?"

"Oh, yes." Judy Lyons agreed. "My dear, you look exquisite."

Claire awkwardly scooted off the bed and held on to the post as she stood. Her mother noticed her grimace. "Is the new brace still bothering you?"

"A little." Claire admitted. Her gaze locked on Massie. "If I could look like that… Turn around and look in the mirror. Mother, Massie doesn't have any idea how beautiful she is. She doesn't see herself the way the world does. I should make her wear a grocery sack over her head because every eye in the church is going to be on her."

"No, they'll be staring at the bride." Massie laughed then. "Well, you _will _be beautiful as soon as you get your hair out of those ridiculous jumbo rollers and put some clothes on. Or were you planning to wear that old robe down the aisle?"

"Yes, that's it, Massie. Hurry her along. She won't listen to me and she's going to be late for her own wedding." Mrs. Lyons said as she turned Claire around and gave her a gentle nudge. "I'm too old for this stress." She added. "I was already old when I had Claire."

Claire grinned. "Yes, Mother. I was your change-of-life baby and I changed your life."

Her mother smiled. "You've been a blessing. Now get dressed or I'm going to send your father in here."

Claire tightened the belt on her robe and began to pull the Velcro rollers out of her hair. "Mass, your bra's showing." She said. "Just below the straps."

Massie tugged on the bodice, but the white lace continued to show. "I don't have any other bras with me."

"Then don't wear one." Claire suggested.

Her mother gasped. "Massie will not go braless into the house of God."

"Mother, I'm not suggesting she'd go topless. No one will know whether she has a bra or not. The dress is lined."

"God will know." Her mother announced. "I'll get the safety pins."

As soon as the door closed, Claire said, "She's a nervous wreck, and so is Daddy. He got all teary-eyed this morning. He told me he was losing his little girl. Isn't that sweet?"

Massie pulled out the chair for Claire so she could sit at the vanity table. "Yes, it's sweet." She said. ""Did you remind him that you and Cam will be living two blocks away?"

"It's not the same." She said. "He's going to cry when he walks me down the aisle, and I'll be crying too if the church isn't ready."

Massie picked up the brush and handed it to her friend. "Do you realize how lucky you are? You have such wonderful, loving parents and you're about to marry the most wonderful man. I envy you." She added in a sigh.

Claire looked at her friend in the mirror. "It won't be long before I'm helping you get ready for your wedding."

Massie looked at her as if she'd gone mad.

"Hey, don't look at me like that." Claire said. "I've seen the way you look at Derrick and he at you. You're both obviously in love with each other."

Massie could have told her the truth then, that it had been a lie and that she and Derrick are just friends thrown together by this case wherein a madman was running after her but was now locked up in jail. Yet she kept silent. Today was Claire's day and Massie didn't want her friend to waste a minute thinking about anything else.

"Don't you get all emotional on me." Claire said. "Or mother will put you to work, too. That's how she deals with tears." She explained. "She had poor Daddy running all over town. She's already made him make two trips up to the abbey. First, she made him go see for himself that the scaffolding was down. Then, she made him go back to make sure the flowers had arrived. Band before he drives to the church, he has to drive by the Vandermans and pick up Bessie Jean and Vivian."

"Bessie Jean has a car."

"Have you seen her drive it?"

"No, but I've seen the car parked in the garage."

"She doesn't want to drive. She wants to be chauffeured. She told mother, with so much traffic these days, it's too dangerous."

"Traffic in Westchester?"

They burst into laughter. "And get this." Claire said. "She blames the Catholics. Says we drive like maniacs."

They laughed again but Claire's mother put a stop to the conversation when she walked inside the bedroom once again. "Claire, I'm begging you now. Get dressed." She headed for Massie, brandishing two huge safety pins. "These were all I could find." She apologized as she pinned Massie's bra to the lining of the dress.

Claire was ready to leave for the church at twenty minutes to seven. Her beaded ivory gown was a replica of a Vera Wang dress she saw in a magazine once and had fallen in love with it. It fit her petite hourglass frame perfectly. When she finally turned to face her mother and Massie, they both grabbed Kleenex to dab at their eyes and wipe their noses.

"Oh, Claire, you look beautiful." Massie whispered. "Absolutely beautiful."

"Your daddy's going to cry when he sees you." Her mother announced, sniffling.

Claire adjusted her veil, then squeezed Massie's hand. "Okay. I'm ready. Let's go."

As she was walking to the door, she called over her shoulder. "Don't forget to wear the necklace I gave you."

Massie would have forgotten if she hadn't been reminded. At the rehearsal dinner, Claire gave all of her bridesmaid a delicate gold chain as a gift.

It took her several tries to fasten the necklace. Then she stood in front of the floor-length mirror to put on her diamond-studded earrings. When they were securely locked, she stared at her reflection for a long moment, her thoughts immediately going to Derrick. Tears blurred her vision. Her heart felt as though it were breaking. He would be going back to Boston right after the wedding. She thought about bidding him goodbye when they last saw each other earlier that day so that she could save herself from more aching pains but she changed her mind. She would wait after the reception. Then she would thank him for his help, his protection, his comfort, his presence and say her good-bye.

Dear God, how was she ever going to get through that? Oh, how she loved him. He had come into her life and changed it forever, for he'd made her open her eyes and her heart to the world around her, and to all the possibilities.

How was she ever going to live the rest of her life without him? Massie continued to stare at herself in the mirror and slowly straightened her shoulders. Her heart would be broken but, yes, she would survive.

Alone, once again.

**I think I'm getting tired of updating but please cross your fingers that that wouldn't happen. Let me warn you that the chapters will be getting longer and longer from this point. **

**Review?**


	33. Chapter 31

**The original one was longer, and I mean, really really long. So, I cut it and made a few edits. I hope you like this one. You're in for a surprise here. And it involves our dear killer's identity.**

**Chapters 32 is dedicated to _krissy0405, artimisluna, _and _gallaghergrl. _**

**I own nothing. **

Chapter 32

The church was packed. Everyone who lived in Westchester must have been invited to the wedding, Derrick decided as he stood in the back of the church, watching the people stream in. Several families tried to go upstairs but the iron gate that led to the balcony above was locked and there was a hand-printed sign above simply stating DO NOT ENTER. Some of the men tried to jiggle the lock loose and go upstairs but they gave up and went searching for a seat inside the main church.

Two ushers were urging guests to move closer together so that more people could squeeze into the pews even as the mother of the bride was being escorted to the front row.

Derrick was trying to stay put of the way. Massie was with the bridal party in the vestibule below the balcony. The door was open but the bride couldn't be seen. Derrick watched Massie open the closet door and put her purse on the shelf inside. She caught his eye when she turned around, gave him a hesitant smile, and walked out of sight.

Claire's father had partially closed the double doors leading into the church so that the wedding party could line up and not be seen. He stood with his hand on the doorknob, peeking inside as he waited for the priest to come out of the sacristy and take his place in front of the altar. Worried and flustered that he might forget what he was supposed to do or he might trip over his daughter's dress and send her flying, he began to pant with anxiety. In a few minutes, he was going to be giving away his only daughter. He reached into the pocket of his rented tux and pulled out his handkerchief. It was while he was mopping his brow that he remembered the Vanderman sisters.

"Oh, good Lord." He whispered loudly.

His daughter heard him. She also saw the panic look on her father's face. "What wrong, Daddy? Did someone faint?"

"I forgot the Vanderman sisters." He told her.

"Daddy, you can't go now and fetch them. The wedding's about to start."

His father frantically looked around for help, spotted Derrick, and grabbed him. "Could you please go and get Bessie Jean and Vivian? They're probably waiting on the curb and I'll probably never hear the end of it if they'll miss this wedding."

Derrick didn't want to leave Massie, but he was the only available man or woman in the vestibule who wasn't in the wedding. Aiden was a groomsman and Noah was looking after him. Derrick knew it would only take him a couple of minutes to drive down the hill and back again, yet he still resisted.

Massie saw his hesitation. She got out of line and hurried over to him, her silk skirt rustling about her ankles. "You won't miss anything." She assured him loud enough for Claire's father to hear. Then she leaned closer and whispered, "It's over, remember? You don't have to worry about me anymore."

"Yeah, okay." He agreed reluctantly. "I'll go in just a minute after you walk down the aisle."

"But if you hurry ─"

"I want to see you walk down the aisle." He repeated a bit more abruptly than he'd intended. In truth, he wanted to make sure she was in Noah's capable hands before he left the church.

He didn't give her time to argue further, had that been her intention. He slipped inside the church and hurriedly walked along the back wall to the south corner so that he was directly in line with the groom and the groomsmen in the front aisle.

A hush of expectancy fell over the crowd. Then Father Sinclair walked out, and, with a noisy clatter, the guests got to their feet. Father Sinclair was wearing his ceremonial white and gold robes and was smiling as he made his way around the altar to take his place at the top of the three steps in front of the main aisle. Once he was in position, he folded his hands, glanced at pianist, and nodded.

The second the music started, the crowd turned in unison to the double doors, craning their necks and shifting for the best view when the bride appeared at the entrance.

Noah and Derrick had had a talk with the priest and the abbot about the necessary precautions they had to take. They flashed their badges, stated their reason and purpose, and were given approval by the two priests. So Derrick wasn't surprised to see Noah standing in the background by the sacristy door with his arms folded across his chest. His hands were hidden inside his jacket, his right hand curled around the butt of his Glock as he slowly scanned the audience.

Derrick raised his hands and motioned for Noah. The first bridesmaid had just started walking towards the altar when Noah went down the side steps and crossed to the side aisle heading for Derrick.

By the time he reached the corner where Derrick was standing, the second bridesmaid had just appeared at the main aisle.

"I got stuck doing an errand." Derrick said. "Once Massie's down the aisle, I'll leave. I'll only be gone for a couple of minutes but I need you to cover her and Aiden until I get back."

"No problem." He assured him. "I won't let either of them out of my sight."

Derrick looked relieved. "I know I'm being stubborn about this…"

"Hey, you've got to go with your gut." Noah said. "I'd trust you instinct over Wesson's hard evidence any day of the week."

"Like I said, I'm only going to be gone five, ten minutes tops."

Noah nodded towards the back doors. "There's Massie. Lord, she's hot."

"You're in church, Noah."

"Right, but man oh man, does she look… good."

Derrick barely glanced at her. While Noah made his way back to the altar ─ getting waylaid by young women who grabbed hold of his hand to say hello as he passed their pews ─ Derrick searched the faces in the crowd.

Derrick spotted Mark and Willie near the front. Neither one of the men had shaved but they had changed their clothes into short sleeves and ties. They, too, focused their complete attention on Massie.

As soon as she reached the altar and turned to join the other bridesmaids at the bottom of the steps, Derrick went out the side door. He ran to his car, cursed loudly when he saw the parking lot was crammed with cars, blocking his exit. He got inside, started the motor, then drove over the curb, and down the manicured lawn, trying to avoid the flower beds brimming with impatiens and rosebushes.

He went a snail's pace until he reached the main highway. Then he floored it and sped down the street. He was fighting the instinct to turn around and get back to the church. He tried to reason away the panicky feeling. Massie and Aiden were safe with Noah. He wasn't going to let anything happen to them. As long as they were in church, they were okay. The ceremony and the mass would take one hour, depending on how long the priest's sermon ran. Even if Derrick was delayed, everything will be fine.

He wouldn't be so tense if he had the results of the damned reports. What was taking so long? Derrick thought of calling Pete now and ask if he had the results already but changed his mind. Derrick knew Pete would call him the second he had information.

He was going sixty by the time he reached the Vandermans' street and had to brake hard to come to a screeching stop in front of their driveway. The car was still rocking as Derrick shoved the gear into park. Bessie Jean and Vivian were waiting on the sidewalk. He had left the motor running as he jumped and ran around to get the back door open for them. He noticed Vivian holding a large plastic container but he didn't want to waste time asking what it was. Besides, Bessie Jean was lacing into him, irritated that she was missing the wedding.

"I just hate being tardy. I don't like to be late to anything, not even ─"

"Couldn't be helped." Derrick said, cutting into her complaints. "Let's go, ladies."

"We might as well take our time now." Vivian said. "We missed the bride walking down the aisle to meet the groom, haven't we?"

"Well, of course, sister. The wedding was set to start at seven, and it's after that now."

"Let's get in the car, ladies." Derrick urged, trying to hold on his patience.

Vivian wasn't going to be rushed. "Derrick, will you be a dear and run this car across the street? Put it in the kitchen, please. The boys aren't home, you see."

"They're at the wedding." Bessie Jean said. "They probably got there in plenty of time, too."

"I baked the cake for Justin," Vivian said, "because he helped with my flower bed."

"Couldn't you take it tomorrow?" Derrick asked, his frustration near boiling point now.

"No, dear, it will go stale." Vivian said. "I would carry it over myself but I'm wearing my new patent leather shoes and they're pinching my toes. It won't take you but a minute." She added as she held out the cake to him.

It was quicker to do than to stand on the curb arguing with her. Derrick grabbed the cake out of her hands and ran across the street.

"I told you to wear sensible shoes but you never listen to me." Bessie Jean chided Vivian.

Derrick crossed the yard and ran up the stone steps. He wanted to leave the cake at the front door but he knew Vivian was watching, and if he didn't follow her exact instructions, she might nag him into going back.

What a pain in the ass, he thought as he shoved the door open. It was dark inside, and cool, the only sound was the gentle hum of the central air conditioner kicking on. He crossed the cluttered living room, stepping on old newspapers and discarded pizza boxes and empty beer cans littering the floor. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a cockroach scurry into one of the boxes. He noticed the beer cans and bottles on all the tables and on the carpet by the coffee table, which also was piled high with old newspapers and empty beer cans. On top of the stack of papers was a large pink and yellow seashell, obviously meant to be decorative but instead being used as an ashtray. The shell was overflowing with cigarette and cigar butts, and the air in the room was rank and stale.

The place was a pigsty. The dining room table was covered with an old, torn, paint-splattered tarp, and on top were several unopened cans of house paint and a couple of big plastic sacks from the local hardware store with paintbrushes sticking out. A swinging door connected the dining room to the kitchen. Derrick pushed the door open and then stepped into the kitchen.

The first thing that struck him was the pungent smell. It was strong, acrid… familiar. Whatever the stringent combination was, it made her eyes tear and his throat burn. Unlike the other rooms, the kitchen wasn't cluttered. In fact, it was immaculate. The counters were bare, spotless, shining… like another kitchen he'd been in. Recognition was sudden. He remembered the odor… vinegar and ammonia… and he remembered exactly where he'd smelled it before. His gaze frantically searched the kitchen. Truth slammed into him like a wrecking ball. Everything clicked into place. He dropped the cake and instinctively reached for his gun as he whirled around toward the table, guessing before he looked what he was going to find. There in the center of the table, placed neatly between the salt and pepper shakers was an extra large, clear plastic, quart-sized jar of antacid tablets. Pink. The tablets were pink, just like he remembered. And right beside the jar saqt a tall, narrow-necked bottle of red hot sauce. The only thing missing was the cocker spaniel trembling in the corner.

"Massie!" He lunged through the doorway. He had to get back to the abbey before it was too late. As he ran through the living room, he crashed into the coffee table, overturning it. He leapt over the legs and ripped the front door open. The church. The bastard was going to grab her when she left the church. Shoving the gun back into the holster, he raced to get to the phone in his car.

He couldn't waste valuable time trying to reach the closest authorities. Pete could sound the alarm and get him help while Derrick and Noah protected Aiden and Massie ─ the pawns in the unsub's deadly game.

He reached the street, shouted to Bessie Jean, "Go inside and call the nearest authorities. Tell the sheriff to get every available man to the abbey."

He dove into the car, leaving the door open as he reached over to pull a Glock and another magazine out of the glove compartment. He grabbed the phone and continued to shot at the stunned ladies watching him. "Go!" He screamed. "And tell them to come armed."

He jerked the gear into drive and slammed his foot down on the gas pedal. The momentum shut the door as the car shot forward. He punched the speed dial for Pete's cell phone. He knew he always carried it and that the only time the power was turned off was when he was home or in the air.

He got his voice mail on the first ring. Shouting a blasphemy, Derrick disconnected, then hit the speed dial for Pete's home number. As he raced up the hill, going seventy miles an hour, he chanted into the phone, "Come on, come on, come on."

One ring. Two rings. Then on the third ring, Pete answered the phone.

Derrick shouted, "It's not Brenner. It's Stark. He's using Massie to get to me. It was a setup from the very beginning. He's going to kill her. Get some help, Pete. We're all targets."

**Uh-oh. Mark, Willie, or Justin? **

**Review and tell me who your guess.**


	34. Chapter 32

**Sorry, guys, for confusing you. Donald Stark is the husband of the woman Derrick killed three month ago in a case. The husband and wife were kidnappers. Derrick tracked their house down and found the woman there with the child. She was like a madwoman. So, she threatened to kill the boy with a knife and Derrick shot her then. Donald Stark had been seeking revenge ever since. Don't worry, I'll explain it further if you still can't understand. **

**This chapter is dedicated to _shadowinthedark13, analuvsloganjb, _and _ariel_.**

**I own nothing.**

Chapter 33

Donald Stark, known to the residents of Westchester as the nice, polite farmer, Justin Brady, was crouched down below the railing of the choir loft, waiting and watching for his opportunity. Oh, how he had planned for this day. The celebration was finally at hand. It was going to be his moment of glory and Derrick Harrington's day of reckoning.

His good mood was solely being tested now, though by Derrick. The mule was, in fact, making Stark quite frantic. Trying to ruin all of his wonderful plans by making him waste time worrying.

Once again he slowly inched up over the wall and searched the crowd below. He could feel the rage building inside and fought to control it. All in good time, he promised himself. And then he looked again. Where had the mule disappeared to? After searching the crowd the third time, Stark concluded he wasn't in the church. Where oh where could he have gone? And then the thought occurred to him that perhaps the mule was standing in the back, under the balcony.

Stark had to be sure. He decided he would have to risk it and sneak downstairs to look for himself. He had to be certain. Had to, had to, had to. It was imperative that the mule attend the celebration. He was the guest of honor, after all.

Keeping his head down, Stark crawled back to the bench where he'd put the key to the iron gate. He was reaching up to grab it when he heard the screeches of tires. Scrambling over to the window, he peered out just as the mule's green Explorer came barreling up the driveway. Stark grinned. "Good things come to those who wait." He whispered. Then he sighed. The guest of honor would soon be strolling into the church any minute now.

He picked up the rifle, adjusted the scope, and then got into position, hunched down on his knees beside the tripod.

The video camera was focused on the front row where Aiden was standing. His initial plan was to kill Derrick's best friend, Spencer, but because of some turn of events, he got Aiden, instead. He will do, he thought.

Timing was everything, of course. What good was killing Aiden and Massie if the mule wasn't there to watch? No good at all, Stark reasoned. He was determined to get both murders on film, too ─ how could he boast that he had bested the FBI if he didn't have any goods to prove it? Stark knew he was smarter than all the mules put together, and soon now, very soon, the world would know it, too. The tape would mock them, prove their incompetence, humiliate them the same way Derrick had humiliated him.

"You messed with the wrong man." He whispered, his voice shimmering with hate. His fingers curled around the smooth barrel. He could feel the power under his fingertips growing stronger, more potent with each caress.

And he still waited for the old priest to finish the wedding ceremony and go up the steps and get back behind the altar to begin mass. Stark had done his homework. He knew exactly where everyone would be sitting. He'd been pretending to be working in the balcony while the rehearsal was going on, and he knew the bride and groom, the best man, and the maid of honor were going to follow the priest up on the altar and sit in chairs, like royalty, slightly behind the altar table and to the right, against the north wall. And the groomsmen and bridesmaids would be sitting on the two new pews specifically made for the wedding, one pew on the bride's side and the other on groom's. Both brother and sister would be center stage in the camera's lens.

It was going to be perfect. He would kill pretty boy Aiden first ─ one shot through the center of his forehead that would look absolutely marvelous on film. And while Derrick was still reeling from the shock ─ who wouldn't after witnessing his best friend's brother and close friend's death ─ Stark would swing the rifle to the right and kill Massie. The camera would be capturing her reaction to her brother's death. Stark pictured the look of horror in her eyes the scant second before he killed her, and he smiled again. It was going to be delicious. Bam, bam, thank you, ma'am. He'd get the brother and sister before the crowd had time to react. Stark was counting on the guests to panic and stampede their way like cows to the doors. He needed the pandemonium to give him time to get downstairs through the trapdoor he'd built in the floor behind the organ. He'd land in the closet off the vestibule, get outside through the front window, and blend in with all the hysterical men and women. He might even decide to have a little more fun and do some screaming, too.

"So much to do, so little time." He whispered. For, in those precious two or three seconds, maybe even as many as four before the crowd swelled from their seats, he was going to try to kill Willie and Mark. They were seated next to the main aisle, six rows from the front. Stark knew he was being greedy, but he didn't care. He had to get rid of them. He'd been fantasizing about if for as long as he'd had to endure living with them. His housemates were pigs. Vile, filthy pigs. He couldn't abide the thought of letting such garbage continue to pollute the world. No, that wasn't an option. They had to die, and if he couldn't kill them today, then he would be back and get them later. He wouldn't bother to film their deaths, however, because like the useless women he'd murdered and the whore, Tiffany, Mark and Willie weren't worthy enough to be remembered.

He stifled a girlish giggle as he thought about the garage door opened he'd made such clever adjustments to. It was clipped to the visor in his van. No one would notice it or give it a second thought. It wasn't going to open any garage doors. No, sirree. One push of the button and, wham, bam. News at eleven.

Are we having fun yet? Oh, yes, yes, indeed.

**Review, alright?**


	35. Chapter 33

**This chapter is dedicated to _shadowinthedark13, xoxoDDLSG, _and _. _**

**I own nothing._  
_**

Chapter 34

Because of Claire's metal leg brace, she wasn't able to kneel, and for that reason Father Sinclair married the couple at the beginning of the ceremony instead of waiting until the middle of the mass, as was the usual custom. He had great hopes for this couple. Cam was a good, decent man and very levelheaded. He believed in marriage and commitment as did his lovely bride. Both of them had endured hardships in the past and had survived with grace and dignity, and Father Sinclair knew they would fight to keep their vows to each other when they hit those inevitable rocky patches.

It was a joy to marry them. He smiled as Cam put the wedding ring on Claire's finger. Her hand was trembling so, it took the groom two tries. Cam was as steady as an old oak.

Father Sinclair gave the blessing and then turned to go up the stairs. The choir began to sing "O Precious Love". While the other members of the wedding party quietly filled into the front pews, the bride and groom, flanked by the best man and maid of honor, followed Father Sinclair up to the altar. Crossing behind him, they walked to the chairs against the wall and took their seats. Claire straightened the long train on Claire's wedding dress and then sat down next to her bed. None of them would get up again until communion was served.

The two altar boys, cousins on Claire's side of the family, sat on the opposite side of the altar by the sacristy. Noah stood behind them. As Father Sinclair was coming around the altar, he noticed Noah slouching against he wall. He frowned at him and, cupping his hand at his side, motioned for him to stand tall. Noah immediately complied.

Father Sinclair turned to the congregation then. He bowed his head, braced his hands on the cool marble top, and then slowly genuflected.

And that was when he noticed the flowers. There, tucked under the altar was a beautiful crystal vase filled with white lilies. Father Sinclair assumed the flowers had been placed there by the florist to get them out of the way while the altar was being prepared for the wedding ceremony. Whoever had put the white linen cloth across the marble top had simply forgotten to put the flowers back. Father Sinclair bent down and leaned in to pick up the vase, but as he was lifting it, he saw the tiny, pin-size, red light blinking at him.

Puzzled, he leaned in to get a closer look. Then he saw the oblong block attached underneath the altar top. It was about the size of a brick covered in a mass of gray duct tape. There were red and white and blue wires protruding from the tape, and in the center was a red light.

He knew exactly what he was looking at now. It was a bomb. And from the size of it, Father Sinclair thought there was enough there to blow the church apart. The blinking red light indicated that the bomb had already been activated.

"Oh, dear." He whispered, so stunned he couldn't move. His heart felt as though it had just stopped. His immediate reaction was to jump up and shout a warning, but he was able to stop himself in time. Stay calm. Yes, he had to stay calm. The last thing he wanted to was cause panic. He let go of the vase, then grabbed it before it toppled over. His hands were shaking violently now, and he could feel the sweat beading his forehead.

What in God's name should he do? Still down on one knee, he half turned toward Noah and motioned for him to come to him.

Noah saw the priest's stricken expression and immediately headed toward him. He thought Father Sinclair was sick. His complexion was as gray as the marble.

Father Sinclair had to grip the edge of the altar to get to his feet. All he could think about was getting the congregation outside. His mind raced. He hadn't been down on his knee for more than four, five seconds at the most, but it was still enough for the crowd to wonder what he was doing. He held on to the top of the altar with one hand, grabbed the vase with the other and stood up just as Noah reached him. Father Sinclair forced a smile, put the vase on the altar, next to the microphone, and then stepped back. He didn't want to be overheard when he told Noah what he found.

Noah moved to stand in front of the priest with his back to the congregation. "Father, what's wrong?" he asked.

Father Sinclair leaned close and whispered into his ear, "There's a bomb under the altar."

Noah's expression didn't change. He simply nodded as he whispered, "Let me have a look."

Then he knelt down. Bowing his head, he ducked lower and leaned in. "Lord." He whispered. He'd wanted to see what he was dealing with, his hope that it was a simple, homemade device that could easily be dismantled. No such luck. Once glance told him the explosive was damned complex, too complex for him to deal with. It would take an expert to figure out which wire to clip, and where in God's name were they going to find an explosive expert in a town the size of Westchester?

Noah pulled back and looked up at the priest. "Can't undo it."

As he raised to his feet, the priest whispered, "Okay, we've got to get them all out of here. I'll get Cam to help. You get the altar boys moving."

The priest hurried toward the groom. He was halfway there when he stopped and motioned for Cam to get up and come to him. He didn't want Claire to hear what he was going to say. She was watching him closely, a puzzled look on her face and then she leaned toward Massie and whispered to her. Massie shook her head slightly indicating she didn't know what Father Sinclair was doing.

In a low, urgent whisper, Father Sinclair said, "We've got a problem here, and I need your help getting everyone outside. There's a bomb under the altar. We don't want a panic." He added when he heard Cam's in-drawn breath. "We can do this. They'll follow you and Claire. Now." He ordered.

"The grotto." Cam whispered. "Tell everyone to follow us to the grotto, like I've got a surprise for Claire."

"Yes, good." The priest whispered back. He quickly turned around and headed back to the altar. Adjusting the microphone, he took a breath and said, "Ladies and Gentlemen, Cam has a surprise for Claire. Please follow the bride and groom to the grotto at the bottom of the hill."

Cam had already reached Claire before Father Sinclair finished his announcement. She looked quiet stunned when he pulled her to her feet, then swept her up into his arms.

"Cam, what are you doing?" She whispered.

"Just smile, honey. We have to get out of here."

Claire wrapped her arms around his shoulders and smiled as he had instructed. She whispered, "Am I going to like this surprise?"

Cam didn't answer her. He strode across the altar, down the steps, and up the center aisle.

His enthusiasm made Massie smile. Cam was practically running. She and Josh, the best man, waited until the priest had finished his announcement. Then they stood. Massie slipped her arms through Josh's and followed the bride and groom, but at a much more sedate pace.

Noah was already beside Aiden. He told him what the priest had found under the altar in a low whisper. Aiden nodded at him and he waited with Noah for the priest to finish up.

A murmur rolled through the crowd, and it became quite noisy as the wedding guests gathered up their possessions, kicked the kneelers back, and stood up to file out of the church.

Stark couldn't believe what he was seeing. They were leaving. No, his mind screamed. This was not acceptable. No one could leave. What was the surprise the priest was babbling about? Leaving early wasn't part of the rehearsal. The grotto? Why were they going to the grotto? What had he missed? Ah, realization dawned into him. The priest had seen the bomb he'd planted under the altar. That must be it.

His mind was speeding now, his thoughts getting jumbled together in his mind. Not acceptable. Massie. She was leaving. No, no, no. She's walking across the altar now while her brother and that FBI hotshot stood waiting for the priest. Aiden first, then Massie. Like he planned. But the mule, the mule had to see it happen.

The priest was speaking into the microphone again. "Those of you who are close to the side doors should go on that way. It will save time." He added.

Stark, shaking with fury, could feel his control slipping away, disintegrating, but then, just as he was about to leap to his feet and start shooting, he saw the side door open and there he was, the mule himself, trying to get inside as the crowd was pushing out. Derrick had finally arrived. "There now, there now, it's going to be alright now." He whispered. He felt like shouting with joy. He was so thrilled to see the mule, he wanted to wave at him. Good to see you, Derrick. Yes, sirree.

There was still time… show time… if he acted swiftly. Swinging his rifle up, he went for his first target. "Don't laugh, don't laugh." He whispered, but the thrill was so exquisite, he didn't know if he could stop himself. He looked through the scope as he slipped his finger on the trigger. Gentle now. Gentle now. Wait for it.

Noah had just nudged the altar boy to the side door while Aiden had just finished convincing the priest to go along with the crowd for safety. Noah was turning to intercept Massie before she reached the center aisle. He wasn't about to let her out of his sight. She would leave with Aiden and him.

He was about twelve feet away from Aiden when he saw the beam of light bouncing across the wall. He instantly reacted. "Gun!" He shouted as he pulled his own weapon from the inside of his jacket and raced toward Aiden. His attention was focused on the choir loft as he fired at the source of light.

Derrick had seen the laser beam skipping across the altar toward Aiden just as Noah shouted the warning. "Get down!" He yelled as he shoved his way through the startled crowd.

Aiden didn't have time to react. He heard a spitting sound, and a chunk of the altar splintered into the air. One second Noah and Derrick were shouting, and the next, Noah was firing his gun at the balcony as he made a diving leap at Aiden and knocked him to the floor. Noah's head struck the edge of the marble top as they went down, and then he felt like a dead weight on top of him. Aiden pushed himself free and scrambled to get the unconscious Noah behind cover. As he struggled to pull him back, Aiden saw the blood pouring from Noah's left shoulder.

The screams from the crowd, frantic to get out of the church, pierced the air. The aisles were crammed with hysterical men and women. Derrick had his Sig Sauer in his right hand, as he pushed forward, knocking people out of his way, he reached behind under his jacket and pulled out the loaded Glock from his waistband. He leapt onto a pew and opened fire. Running along the tops of the benches, he fired the guns in succession, trying to keep the bastard pinned down.

Stark ducked behind the railing. What was happening? He'd seen Aiden go down, then the other mule, and he was sure he'd shot both of them. But where were they?

Now he had to get Massie. Stark inched the gun up and got her in his sights. She was down on her knees at the bottom of the altar steps. She was struggling to get up when he fired. She went down again, but he couldn't tell where the bullet had struck her. Gunshots were blazing away at him. He dropped the rifle and scrambled on his belly to the trapdoor. The videotape. He had to get the tape. The air around him sizzled with bullets. One nearly got him in his hand when he reached for the video. Couldn't get it but he couldn't leave without it. Stark crawled to the outlet next to the organ, then jerked the cord. Gunfire and screams ricocheted around him. The camera crashed to the floor, shattering, and he reeled it toward him. A second later, he had the tape. He shoved it into the pocket of his windbreaker, zipped it closed, and then scrambled behind the organ and lifted the trapdoor. Swinging his feet in first, he slid down onto the ledge he'd built in the ceiling below. Then he reached up, pulled the trapdoor closed, and slipped the bolt back in place.

There was so much noise he didn't worry about anyone hearing him kick through the ceiling. He landed in the closet, opened the door, and peeked out. No one was inside the vestibule but he could see the swarm of people pushing and shoving to get out of the front doors. He decided to blend in with the mob. He ran through the vestibule and elbowed his way into the crowd. An old woman grabbed his arm to keep from being pitched forward, and gentleman that he was, he wrapped his arm around her and helped her outside.

He glanced back once and had to fight the laughter. Derrick was probably still fighting the crowd, trying to get to the iron gate. Eventually, he'd make it up the stairs, but would he find the trapdoor? Stark didn't think so. It had been so cleverly designed. He could picture the mule standing in there, scratching his head in puzzlement. Where oh where had Justin Brady gone? Yes, that's who the mule would be looking for but when Derrick next saw him, Stark was sure the FBI wouldn't recognize him anymore. The beard would be gone, the farmer's haircut would be longer, styled and died a different color. He'd also change the color of his eyes, maybe green or blue. He had such a nice collection of contacts to choose from, every color of the rainbow at his disposal.

Stark believed he was the master of disguises. Subtle changes, that was the ticket. Nothing dramatic, just a little of this and a little of that to make a world of difference. Why, his own mother wouldn't have recognized him today if he'd walked up to her and tapped her on her shoulder. Of course, Mother Millicent wasn't seeing much of anything these days, rotting as she was in her backyard under petunias she was so partial to. Still, if she could see him in his farmer's get-up, Stark was sure she'd get a kick out of it.

He didn't let go of the old woman on his arm but dragged her along with him as he turned to a corner. He kept close to the building so that when the mule got up to the loft, he wouldn't see him if he looked out the window.

The hag was crying. He reached the side door where the crowd was spilling out of the church and she started to resist. "Let me go. I have to find my husband. Help me find him."

He shoved her away from him and watched her fall into the bushes. Then he moved on, pushing his way through the throng of people and turning again to make sure the mule wasn't hot on his trail.

He let out a low squeal. Aiden was rushing outside, and the crowd was parting for him. He was carrying the other mule. Aiden's black and white tuxedo was bloody, but Aiden didn't look any the worse for wear. And Massie. God Almighty, she was coming out of the door with him.

He was so shocked to see that both of them were still alive and kicking, he almost shouted at them. He recoiled against the wall, his shoulders pressing into the cold stone. What to do, what to do? No time to plan, no time at all, but he had to do something before the opportunity slipped away.

A crowd surrounded Aiden now. Stark watched as he slowly lowered the other mule to the ground, then knelt over him, and whispered into the dying priest's ear. Praying for him, no doubt, as if that would do any good.

Stark desperately wanted to kill Aiden but he knew he couldn't get a clear shot ─ too many people running around like chicken with their heads cut off. He turned his attention to Massie. Easy pickings, he thought. She was standing by the door, against the wall, trying to stay out of the way, but every couple of seconds she turned to try to look inside. She wasn't more than thirty feet away from him. He slowly crept forward. She looked dazed, and that gave him an added advantage.

He pulled the gun out of his pocket and hid it inside his jacket.

"Massie." He shouted her name and tried to sound pitiful. He doubled over, his head down but he peeked up at her as he called out to her again. "Massie, I've been shot. Please help me." He staggered closer. "Please."

Massie heard Justin Brady call her name and, without a second's hesitation, she started toward him.

He pretended to stumble. Then he groaned loudly. An Academy Award. He should get an award for his flawless performance.

She took a step in Justin's direction and a sting pinched the calf of her right leg. Most likely she'd cut herself when she'd thrown to the floor by one of the bridesmaid trying to push ahead of her into the aisle. She could feel blood trickling down into her shoe.

She was limping but moved as fast as she could. When she was about fifteen feet away from him, she suddenly stopped. Something wasn't quite right. She heard Derrick's voice inside her head. Don't believe anyone tells you. And that's when she glanced down and saw what was wrong.

Justin watched her take a step back, away from him. He had his right hand inside his jacket, holding his gun flush against his side. He kept stumbling toward her, half doubled over, trying to look as though he were in terrible pain.

She wasn't buying it. What was she staring at? His hand. She was staring at his hand. He looked down and then he saw it. The surgical glove. He had forgotten to remove the surgical glove. Jolted by his own carelessness, he ran at her like a charging bull. She was starting to run away, shouting for Derrick, when he slammed the butt of his gun against the base of her skull, silencing her scream.

Hurry, his mind told him. Get her, get her, get her. She was unconscious, falling, but he caught her around the waist before she hit the ground and dragged her back, and around the corner of the building. People were still pouring out of the church, and there were clusters of men and women and children in the parking lot, but no one tried to stop him. Did they see what he was doing? Did they see the gun pressed against Massie's chest? The barrel was pointed upward, the muzzle under her chin. If anyone dared interfere, Stark knew exactly what he would do. He would blow her pretty little head off.

He didn't want her to die, not yet anyway. He might have to make a few adjustments, but he still had such grand plans for her. After he locked her in the truck of his other car, he'd drive somewhere safe and tie her up. There were lots of abandoned cabins up in this neck of the woods. He knew he'd find the perfect spot easily. He'd leave her there trussed up like a turkey with a gag in her mouth, and then he'd go shopping. Yes, sir, that's what he was going to do. He'd buy another video camera ─ high quality of course, only the best would do ─ and he'd purchase at least a dozen videotapes as well. Sony if they had them, because the resolution was oh, so much better. And then he would return to his sweet Massie and film her death. He'd try to keep her alive for as long as he could, but when the inevitable occurred and the light went out of her eyes ─ and it would ─ he would rewind the tape and relive the glorious execution. Stark knew from past experience that he would spent hours and hours watching and rewatching the tape until he had every twitch, every scream, every plea memorized. Only when he was completely satisfied would he be able to rest.

Once he had disposed of her body in the woods, he would go home. He would make copies of the tapes and send them to everyone he wanted to impress. Derrick would get one for a keepsake, a reminder of how impotent he had been, daring to go ups against the master. Another tape would be sent to the head of the FBI. The director might want to use the gift as a training tape for future mules. Stark would, of course, keep several for his own personal library ─ even the best tapes eventually wore out after all ─ and the last tape he would make would be auctioned on the Internet. Although he wasn't driven by the almighty dollar, a nice nest egg would give him the freedom to go searching for another perfect partner, and this tape would bring fortune. There was a large following out there surfing the Internet with similar tastes in voyeurism.

Massie lay slumped on the ground next to the van while Stark got his keys out. No one could see them, tucked in as they were between two other cars. He unlocked the door, slid the panel back, and then lifted Massie and threw her inside. As he pulled the door closed, her long skirt got caught, but he was in too much hurry now to open the door again. He knew he was being sloppy but that couldn't be helped. Things were changing so quickly and then there was also his own forgetfulness with the gloves. He ran around to the driver's side, saw the ambulance threading its way up the drive, trying to get through the crowd and the cars. The siren was blasting away.

Stark knew he couldn't get down the driveway which was the only exit. "Not to worry." He whispered. He started the motor and slowly edged the van over the curb. Then he gunned the engine. The van lurched forward and crashed into the rosebushes. A thorny branch flew up against the window, and Stark instinctively ducked, as though it were going to slice through the windshield and strike him. He was all but standing on the gas pedal now, pushing down with all his weight. The van raced down the grassy slope, bouncing and rocking along. Stark felt like he was flying.

He glanced in the rearview mirror and then began to laugh. No one was following him. He was safe as a bug in a rug.

Should he do it now? Blow them all to kingdom come? The detonator was just above his forehead, clipped like a real garage door opener to the visor.

No, he wanted Massie to watch the fireworks. He decided to stick with his original plan then. He'd blow up the abbey on his way out of town. He'd already picked the spot. Best seat in the house, at the top of the hill outside of town. He'd be able to see every brick explode. And, oh, what a sight that was going to be. My God, he ought to film it, too. Send it to all the television station. News at eleven. Yes, sirree…

**To all those who were confused of the whole Justin Brady/Donald Stark thing, let me just clarify that Donald created Justin. Meaning Justin doesn't exist. Okay?**

**Review, now, dearies. :)  
**


	36. Chapter 34

**Your questions will all be answered in this chapter so please be patient. :)**

**This chapter is dedicated to _Kittykatgurl21, krissy0405, _and _ariel. _**

**I own nothing.**

Chapter 35

"Amber-eyed girl, won't you wake up and play… Massie, it's to wake up."

Stark glanced down at his watch and was shocked at how little time had passed. Then he heard the screech of tires, and his head snapped up. He looked in the rearview mirror and saw the green Explorer at the top of the hill. The SUV was soaring through the air, the front tires coming down as Stark watched in disbelief. His rage was uncontrollable.

"Not acceptable." He screamed as he pounded his fist against the steering wheel.

The van careened onto the main street, sideswiped a parked car, and slid into a spin sideways. Stark slammed his foot down on the gas pedal, sped forward, and fish-tailed around the next corner. He was going eighty now as he raced toward the park. The van almost turned over as he took another corner on two wheels, but it righted itself, as he swung the wheel hard to the left. He turned yet another corner and there it was, the back entrance to the park through the preserve.

The mule wasn't behind him now and Stark was certain he'd lost him. Giggling, he slowed down and entered through the joggers' path. The van bounced along the surface and the right wheels grinding over rocks at the edge of the path.

He thought he heard Massie groan. He had to stop himself from leaping over the seat and tearing her skin to shreds with his bare hands. The rage was getting stronger, and the thoughts were coming so fast now, he was having trouble concentrating. He reached up to adjust the mirror so he could watch her. She was huddled in a ball on her side with her back to him, and she wasn't moving. His mind was playing tricks on him, convinced now that she hadn't groaned. He'd only imagined it.

He was so busy watching her, he almost drove the van into the lake. He swerved back onto the road, then adjusted the mirror again so he could see behind him. Because of the angle the path took, he had to slow the van down even more. He couldn't slow his mind though. He glanced over his shoulder to look at Massie again, but it wasn't Massie that he saw. It was the whore, Tiffany. He shook his head. Then, just as suddenly, it was Massie again.

He wanted to stop and close his eyes. He wanted time to clear his mind and get organized again. He had to be organized. He was a planner, meticulous down to the very last details. He didn't like surprises. That's why he was so rattled, he decided.

They had tricked him into making a mistake. He sighed then. He could feel himself becoming centered again. The thoughts weren't bombarding him. Control, that was the ticket. He was getting his control back.

"Almost there." He sang out to Massie. He slowed the van so he could edge through the pines when he reached the main road that wound around the lake. Then he increased the speed again. The Buick was about two hundred yards away, parked between the trees behind the abandoned shack. He couldn't see it yet, but he knew it was where he'd left it, ready and waiting.

He had just reached the road to a cabin when he saw the green Explorer again. The SUV shot through the entrance of the park and then slowed to take a turn.

"No!" Stark slammed on the brakes. There wasn't time to back the van, turn it around, and try to outrun the mule. He couldn't go further either. Derrick would see him and block him. What to do? What to do? "No, no, no." He chanted.

He threw the gear into park, grabbed his gun, and jumped out of the van. Because he'd removed the door handles on the inside so that his lady friends couldn't escape while he was busy driving, he had to run around and open the door from outside.

He shoved the gun in his jacket and then reached with both hands to lift her. A new plan. Yes, a new plan. He could do it. He'd get her inside, where it was nice and dark, and he'd work on her there, with the doors locked. The mule would be outside, trying to get in, listening to Massie's screams. The mule would make mistakes then. Yes, he would. And then Stark would kill him.

Massie didn't come awake slowly or in a foggy daze. It was instantaneous. One second she was unconscious, and the next she was struggling to keep from screaming. She could feel the bile burning the back of her throat.

She was inside his van. She didn't move for hear he would see her in the mirror or hear her groping around the floor for something to use as a weapon. She dared a quick look, saw the toolbox, but she'd have to move to get it. it was against the back door. Could she get out that way? Switch the door open and jump? Where, where was the gaping hole in the back door? The madman had taken the handles off. Why would he do that? Her feet were pressed against the side door, but she couldn't see if that handle had been removed as well unless she moved, and she didn't dare.

She was shaking now and tried to stop, terrified that he would notice and know she was awake. The van hit something in the road. She was lifted and then thrown into the back of the front seat. A second later, she was thrown back again when the van lurched forward. She felt cold metal against her chest. The safety pin was pressing into her skin. She fumbled to get it open. Her hands were trembling, so she almost dropped it, and then she caught the whimper before it escaped. She unhooked it and then bent it until it was straight. She didn't know what she was going to do with it, but it was the only weapon she had. Maybe she could drive the pin through his throat. Tears stung her eyes, her head hurt so much, it was an effort to think at all. Was he watching her now? Did he have a gun in his hand? Maybe she could jump him from behind, surprise him.

Ever so slowly she moved her legs up, thinking she could turn and spring upward, grab him by the neck and then slam his head hard into the steering wheel. But something was holding her. Her skirt was caught. She was afraid to turn her head and look for fear that he would see her.

The van suddenly came to a jarring stop. She did drop the safety pin then, but she grabbed it from the floor before she heard the door open. Where was he going? What was he going to do?

_Oh, God, he's coming for me now._

She had to be ready. When he tried to get her out of the van, she would have to be ready. Frantic, her hands violently shaking now, she hooked the pins round her middle fingers, just above the knuckles. The metal fastener dug into her skin, tearing it as she hooked it there, anchored so that the long needle was sticking straight out. She cupped her left hand around it, trying to hide it.

_Don't let him have his gun in his hand. Please, God, don't let him have the gun. _She couldn't spring up and get him if he was holding the gun. He'd kill her before she touched him. _If he does, I'll wait. Make him carry me. He'll put the gun down if he has to carry me._

The van moved when the side door was slid open. Her eyes were tightly closed, and she was trying not to cry as she silently prayed.

_Help me, God, please help me…_

She could hear his harsh breathing. He grabbed her by her hair and jerked her toward him. When he bent down to pull her out of the van, she opened her eyes and saw the gun. His fingers dug into her side as he lifted her over his shoulder.

He was strong, terribly strong. He ran with her draped over his left shoulder as though she weighed no more than a speck of dandruff on his collar. Massie's eyes were wide open now, but she didn't dare lift her head for fear that he might feel the movement. As long as he thought she was unconscious, he wouldn't focus on her. She recognized the abbot's cabin up ahead.

She heard a car coming toward them, then the madman's obscenity. He ran up the steps and then suddenly, stopped.

She heard him jiggling with the doorknob, but it was locked. A second later, a gunshot went off next to her ear. She flinched, and she was sure he felt it.

Stark was in such a haste to get inside, he kicked the door and tore it from its hinges. He hit the wall switch, and two lamps, one on a credenza by the door and another on a table upstairs on the balcony, lit the cabin. Still holding her on his shoulder, he ran across the front room and into the kitchen. He put the gun down on the countertop and ripped the drawers open, throwing them to the floor.

"There we are." He cried out gleefully when he found the drawer of knives. He grabbed the biggest one there. A butcher knife. It looked old and dull, but he didn't care if it was sharp or not. The work he intended to do wasn't going to be meticulous. There simply wasn't time. This one would do nicely. Yes, sirree.

He grabbed his gun, then turned around and ran back into the living room, kicking drawers and utensils out of his path. When he reached the center of the room, he stopped and shrugged her off of him. She crashed into the coffee table, then hit the floor, her left side taking the brunt of impact.

He waited until she was down, then grabbed her by her hair again and jerked her up to her knees.

"Open your eyes, bitch. I want you to look out the door. Look at the mule when he comes running in here to save you."

As he was speaking, Stark realized he had the butcher knife and gun at the same hand. He let go of Massie and switched the knife into his left hand. "There now." He said. "What was I thinking? Can't shoot and cut with the same hand, now can I? Look at me, Massie. See what I have for you?"

She was still up on her knees and he squatted down behind her. Her body would shield him from Derrick's gun. He held the knife out in front of her face, "Now, what do you think I'm going to do with this?"

Although he hadn't expected an answer, he was still disappointed she didn't cry out when she saw the knife. She would though, once he started working on her. Oh, yes, he knew how to get what he wanted. He was still the master. He jabbed her left arm with the knife and then chuckled with delight when she screamed. Blood spurted down her arm, thrilling him. Then he stabbed her again. "That's my girl. Keep screaming." He encouraged, his voice eerily high-pitched, manic with excitement. "We want Derrick to hear you."

He squatted and waited. He braced her shoulders against his with his arm as he pointed the barrel of the gun at the open doorway. He kept his head down behind hers, but he peeked around her toward the door. He jabbed her again, just for fun, but she didn't cry out this time. He put the tip of the bloody knife against the side of her neck.

"Trying to be brave, Massie, huh? When I want you to scream, by God, you will."

He heard her whimper and smiled. "Don't you fret, my love. I won't shoot the mule right away. I want him to watch me kill you. Tit for tat." He sang. "What's taking Derrick so long? What's that boy up to? Maybe he's trying to sneak in through the kitchen door. Oops, there isn't one. He can't do that, can he?"

Had he not been talking, he would have heard the faint creak above him. Derrick had come in through the bedroom window. The tree branch had given way just as he grabbed hold of the window ledge, but the crashing noise he heard from inside covered the sounds he made.

The bedroom door was open, and Derrick crept forward. He could see Massie and Stark below the balcony, halfway across the room, facing the front door. Derrick had his gun in his hand and the Glock tucked into the back of his waistband.

He couldn't get a clear shot at the bastard. If the bullet went through his body, it would hit Massie. He couldn't risk it. He couldn't go down through the stairs either. Stark would see him. What the hell was he going to do?

Massie looked up and saw the shadow on the ceiling. It moved ever so slightly and she knew that Derrick was upstairs. It was only a matter of time before the man behind her saw the shadow, too.

"Why are you doing this, Justin?" She asked.

"Shut up. I have to listen for the car. I have to hear the mule coming."

"You were too quick for him. He must not have seen your van, and he turned north instead of south. He's on the other side of the lake."

Stark strained to hear footsteps on the gravel outside, but he was smiling. "Yes, I was quick, wasn't I? A mule can't outsmart me."

"Are the mules the FBI?"

"Yes." He answered. "You're a very clever girl, aren't you?"

She had to keep him talking. Keep him focused on what she was saying so he wouldn't look up. "Not as clever as you. Why did you choose me? Why do you hate me?"

He drew his thumb down the side of her face. The rubber glove was cold against her skin. "Hush that talk, my love. I don't hate you. I love you." He crooned. "But your darling Derrick took my love away from me. You're just a small piece of my revenge. If the circumstances were different, I would keep you, of course."

"But why me?" she persisted. Her head was down but her eyes were looking up, watching the shadow slowly moving forward.

"It wasn't you at all." Stark said. "The mule killed my wife and then he bragged about it in the newspapers. Oh, yes, that's what he did. All the time and energy training her was wasted. She was almost worthy. I sought perfection and she was getting there. Yes, she was almost perfect. Then Derrick killed her. They called him hero. He ruined my life and they called him hero. I couldn't have that, now could I? I had to prove to the world that I was the master."

She cringed at the hate in his voice. She didn't have to ask more questions. He seemed to want to explain himself to her. The words were coming faster now. He wanted to tell her everything, to brag about how he fooled the mules.

"When I read the newspaper article and knew who had killed my wife, I had to retaliate. Don't you see? I was forced into it. Your brother, Spencer, was mentioned in that article and I wanted to find out more about good old Spencer Block. I read that he and Derrick had been best friends since they were in college. At first, I thought about killing Spencer and then go after the mule's family, but then I thought, why give Derrick the home advantage? So I did my research, found out everything I could about Spencer and your other brothers and imagine my joy when I found out about you.

"It was Derrick I was after all along." He said, snickering. "Until I met you. Then I wanted you, too. When I met my wife, there was something about her that reminded me of my mother. You remind me of her, too. There's a bit of perfection in you, Massie. As I said, had the circumstance been different, I would have trained you.

"Mother's gone now. There wasn't any reason to keep her alive. She had reached perfection and I knew I had to act quickly."

The second he stopped, she blurted out, "Why did you kill all those women?"

He laughed out loud. "Ah, those _women_." He sneered. "Just for my entertainment, of course. And I had to do something to lure Derrick to Westchester. I knew that if you were in danger, your brothers would immediately ask for the mule's help. Clever plan, right?"

Then he saw the shadow. He swung Massie around and shouted, "I'll kill her, I'll kill her. Drop the gun, Derrick. Drop it now, now, now, now."

Derrick had reached the center of the balcony. He put his hands up but he didn't drop the gun. The dining room table was directly below him. If he could just get over the railing…

Stark was still crouched behind Massie, trying to turn her with him so he could face the steps and be fully protected by the wall behind him.

"Drop the gun." He shouted again. "And come on down and join the party."

"You're not going to be able to sneak away this time." Derrick said. He could see the terror and pain in Massie's eyes. If he could just get Stark to move away from her, just a fraction, he could get a shot before he got hit.

"Of course I'm going to get away. I'm going to kill Massie and you, and I'm going to get away. The stupid mules will be looking for the hick farmer, Justin Brady. I'll cut her throat if you don't drop the gun!"

Derrick let go of the weapon. It barely made a sound as it dropped onto the carpet at his feet.

"Kick it out of reach." Stark screamed, waving the gun as he gave the order.

Derrick did as he was told but slowly lowered his hands until they were level with his shoulders. Every second would count. He wanted his hands close to the railing so he could spring when the time came.

"I've got you now, don't I, mule?" Stark shouted. "Who's the master? Who's the hero? They'll never find me, no sirree." He gloated. "They don't even know who I am."

"Sure, they do." Derrick called out. "We've always known. You're Donald Stark, and we know all about you. You're a sleazy filmmaker. You use prostitutes to simulate your amateur death scenes. S and M crap." He added. "And not at all believable. Homemade stuff. You barely make a living selling the junk on the Internet, and you've got a lot of dissatisfied customers."

"Dissatisfied?" Stark roared.

Derrick deliberately shrugged. "You're not any good, Stark. You ought to get in another line of work. Maybe you can learn a new trade in prison."

Stark's full attention was riveted on the balcony. He wasn't aware that he'd lessened his grip on Massie or that the butcher knife was now pointed at the doorway and not her throat.

"No, no, you're lying. No one knows who I am. You heard me talking to Massie and that's how you knew ─"

"No, we've always known who you are, Stark. The article we planted in the papers was just a way to draw you out. Everyone was in on it, even Spencer, Adam and Aiden. We planned it down to the very last detail."

Derrick could tell that the lies were working. The bastard's face was red and blotchy and his eyes bulged out of his head. He hoped that Stark's rage would cause him to make a mistake. Derrick only needed a second.

_Come on. Come on. Forget about her. Come after me._

Massie saw the barrel of the gun coming up, felt the madman tense against her. He was trying to lift her up with him as he shot Derrick. Then she heard the screeching of tires on the gravel outside the door. Was it Aiden? Oh, God, no. Whoever came through the doorway was going to get killed.

"No!" She screamed as she twisted in his arms and threw herself backward. Her shoulder knocked the hand grasping the gun. Stark fired wild, hitting the glass picture window, shattering it. The blast was so close to her face that she felt the burning heat. She kept fighting and pushing as she turned, but he was too strong. He wouldn't let go of her and wouldn't be budged.

Stark's gun was swinging upward just as Jules Wesson appeared in the doorway. Crouched down in a shooter's stance, his arms straight out, both hands on his gun, he waited for a clear shot.

Massie jerked back, twisting again, fighting with all her might until she faced Stark. Then she attacked,. Her left hand gripped his wrist, her nails digging into his skin to keep him from aiming his gun. He tried to reach around her to stab her hand with his knife and that's when she swung her right hand up and rammed the needle into his eye.

Stark screamed in agony. He dropped the knife and reached for his eye, howling like a crazed animal.

The second Massie struck Stark, Derrick grabbed hold of the railing and swung over. Shouting for her to get down, he reached behind him, grabbed the Glock and started firing.

Stark leapt to his feet, uncontrollably firing his gun. Wesson dove for the floor, narrowly missing a bullet, and then he too fired.

Derrick fired midair, landed on the table and fired again. The first bullet struck Stark in the chest. Wesson blew the gun out of Stark's hand, and Derrick's second shot got him in the head as he was turning to run. The third shot struck his leg.

Stark was on his back, one leg twisted under him, his eyes wide open. Derrick stood over him, his chest heaving as he tried to control his rage.

He heard a sob and whirled around. Massie was on the floor, her head in her hands. As Wesson rushed forward, Derrick drop to his knees beside her and put his hand out to touch her. Then he stopped. He was afraid that he would only make her pain worse.

"I'm so sorry." He whispered. "God, I'm sorry. I brought this to you and Aiden. It's all my fault."

She threw herself in his arms and sobbed against his shoulder, wishing that they could stay together, in each other's arms, forever. "Is he dead? Is it over?"

He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. He kissed the top of her head and then closed his eyes. "Yes, love, it's over."

**Do you enderstand it now?**

**Btw, I already finished the story. I already wrote the ending. And I'm still thinking whether or not I'll make a sequel.**

**But for the meantime, review and make me delirious. :))**


	37. Chapter 35

**WHOA. I got like many reviews in the previous chapter. THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU! :)))**

**This chapter is dedicated to _jenjenismyname, krissy0405, _and _..thunder. _**

Chapter 36

By the time Derrick got Massie to the hospital, Noah was already in surgery. Aiden, still wearing his bloody tux, came running down to the emergency room as soon as he heard from one of the nurses that his sister had been brought in.

He was in a panic until he saw Massie. She looked like she'd been through hell, but she was breathing and even managed a smile for him. Derrick was sitting on the exam table beside her with an arm wrapped around her waist. Aiden thought he looked worse than she did, which was pretty awful. Derrick's face was gray and his eyes had a haunted look.

"What about Noah? How's he doing?"

"They're working on him now." Aiden said. "The doctor told me the bullet didn't hit anything major, but he lost a lot of blood. He's going to be alright." He assured them. "It's just going to take him time to get his strength back."

"About twenty minutes now. He's going to be fine." He said again. "You know Noah. He's as tough as nails." Then he turned to his sister. "Spencer's on his chopper. I called him as soon as Noah entered surgery."

Massie nodded. "Where's your bodyguards?" She asked, seeing that her brother was alone which was highly unusual.

"I had them deal with the media waiting outside the hospital doors." Aiden answered.

Massie sagged against Derrick and put her head down on his shoulder. Her hand was in his lap and he was holding tight. She hurt everywhere. She couldn't make up her mind which was worse, her head, her arm or her leg. Every inch of her body seemed to be throbbing in pain. She wanted to rest but when she closed her eyes, the room began to spin and that made her queasy.

"Where the hell is the doctor?" Derrick demanded.

"They just paged him." Aiden replied. He went to his sister and gently brushed the hair away from her face. "You're going to be alright." He tried to sound certain, confident, but it came out all wrong and it sounded like he was asking her a question.

Massie nodded. "Yes, I'll be fine. I'm just tired."

"Can you tell me what happened? You were right behind me when I carried Noah outside."

"He was there and he called to me. He asked me to help him. I think he told me he'd been shot."

"Who called to you?"

"Justin Brady, one of the men working at the abbey." She answered. "Only he wasn't really Justin." She looked up at Derrick. "I started to go to him but all of a sudden I heard your voice in my head."

Derrick slightly raised an eyebrow. "What was I saying?"

"Don't believe anything anyone tells you. I knew something wasn't right about him and I saw the glove on his hand. It was a surgical glove, I think." She looked at Aiden when she added, "I tried to run but he came after me. And the next thing I remember was waking up inside the van. He took all the door handles off, and I couldn't get out. Aiden, he showed me a photo of his wife. It was at the picnic and he showed me a photo. He must have stolen it from someone."

"Let's talk about this later." Aiden suggested when he saw how upset she was. "Don't think about it now."

"Aiden, go hurry up the damned doctor." Derrick barked.

The physician, a cranky, middle-aged man named Benchley, pulled the curtain back just as Aiden was leaving to look for him. The doctor took one look at Massie and then ordered Derrick and Aiden to leave.

He had a bedside manner of a Doberman. Shouting for a nurse to assist him, he glared at Derrick who didn't move from the table and once again he demanded that he get out.

Derrick refused to leave Massie's side. He wasn't diplomatic with his refusal either. Fear made him hostile and belligerent, but he didn't realize he was up with someone just as belligerent. Dr. Benchley had worked in Los Angeles for twelve years in a rough inner-city emergency room. He had seen and heard it all. Nothing intimidated him, not even an armed FBI agent with a crazed look in his eyes.

Aiden stepped in and dragged Derrick out of the cubicle before his friend lost his temper.

"Let him examine her." He said. "He's a good doctor. Come and sit down in the waiting room. If you sit near the door, you can see the curtain from there."

"Yeah, okay." Derrick agreed but he couldn't sit down. He paced, instead.

"Why don't you go upstairs and wait?" Derrick suggested. "Have the nurse page me when Noah comes out of surgery. I want to talk to the doctor."

"I'll go up in a minute." Aiden said. "But I want to stay until Dr. Benchley finishes with her."

Derrick didn't answer him. He continued pacing.

The next hour was agonizing. Aiden sat on one of the waiting benches while he watched Derrick restlessly and dizzily pacing the room. For several times, he tried to engage him in conversation, deliberately keeping the tone mild and casual, but the only answer he got from the man was a curt yes or no. After six attempts, he gave up and closed his eyes instead.

But the minute he heard Spencer's voice, he opened his eyes, his relief visible. He thought maybe his brother could talk some sense into Derrick and get him to listen.

"Where the hell is she? Is she alright?" Spencer all but yelled his questions. "What the hell happened?"

Derrick didn't stop pacing as he answered. "She's with the doctor for an hour now. I don't know what the hell he's doing with her but if he won't get his ass out here in the next five seconds, I'll shoot him."

Spencer turned to his older brother and, raising an eyebrow questioningly at him, he cocked his head toward Derrick.

Aiden stood up and went to stand beside him. "He's been like that ever since he got her here. When you see her, you'll probably think he looks worse than she does." He whispered low enough for Derrick not to hear them. Not that he was even paying them any attention. He was busy rambling on and on the things he'll do to the doctor.

Spencer smiled and went to clap Derrick's back. "She's going to be fine, man." He assured him.

Aiden snorted. "Yeah, keep telling him that and it'll be a miracle if he listens."

Derrick glared him to silence and then he sighed. "What if she isn't? Spence, I damn near got her killed. He had her. The damned bastard had her pinned against him with a knife at her throat. I've never been so scared in my life. One second. That's all it would have taken to cut an artery. And it's all my fault. I should have known."

"Known what?"

Derrick didn't immediately answer him. He was reliving those terrifying moments when he'd crept up onto the balcony and had seen Massie down below.

"I should have figured it out before he had a chance to grab her. And he never should have gotten that chance. Because of my incompetence, Massie almost lost her life and Noah got shot."

Spencer had never seen Derrick so shaken. "Stop berating yourself up and tell us what happened. What should you have known?"

Derrick rubbed his brow and leaned back against the wall. His gaze was glued to the curtain. He told Aiden and Spencer everything, and when he finished, both brothers needed to sit down.

"My God, you both could have been killed." Spencer expelled a long breath and stood up. "You know I'd tell you if you screwed up."

"Maybe."

"You didn't screw up." Spencer insisted. "Pete didn't figure it out either. You did your job. You protected my sister and you saved her life."

Derrick shook his head. "No, she pretty much saved herself. There I was, armed to the hilt and she nailed the son of a bitch's eye with a safety pin. Drove it right through his eye."

Spencer and Aiden visibly flinched.

"She's going to have nightmares." Spencer said.

A nurse came to get Derrick. There was a phone call from Agent Wesson. The two brothers stayed in the waiting area, talking about Adam.

"How's he doing?" Aiden asked.

Spencer surprised him by grinning. "He's busy flirting with his doctor."

Aiden shook his head, laughing. "Typical Adam. Did you tell him what happened here?"

"Yeah, I did." Spencer rubbed the back of his head. "He insisted to come with me. When I told him no, he threatened crawl his way to Westchester. He's being really difficult."

Derrick returned a few minutes later. "Wesson found the detonator. It was inside a garage door opener." He said.

"What about the bomb?" Aiden asked.

"The abbey's blocked off and the bomb squad's coming in by helicopter."

"You know, Derrick, we're fortunate no one else was hurt." Aiden said. He was trying to keep his friend occupied because he knew Derrick had about had it with waiting. He didn't want him to go charging into the exam room.

"Why is the doctor taking so long?" Derrick demanded.

"He's being thorough." Aiden said.

"Yeah, we don't want him screwing up, right?" Spencer agreed.

"You're both awfully damn calm about this." Derrick noted curtly.

"One of us has to be." Aiden said, obviously amused.

Spencer snorted.

"She's your sister and you saw what she looked like. If I were you and it was my sister in there, I'd be going nuts."

"Well, you kinda are already." Spencer snickered.

Aiden shot his brother a you're-not-helping look. Turning back to Derrick, he said, "Massie's a strong woman."

"Yeah, she's strong, but a body can only take so much."

The doctor stayed with Massie. One-on-one with his patient, his bedside manner had vastly improved. He was kind, soft-spoken, and gentle. He numbed the arm and cleaned the wound. Then he wrapped it in gauze to keep it protected until the plastic surgeon arrived to stitch it. He probed the area around her left eye but stopped when she winced.

"You're going to have a doozy of a shiner." He said.

The doctor told her that he was sending her to radiology. The swelling at the base of her skull worried him, and he wanted to make sure she didn't have a concussion.

"We're going to keep you overnight for observation." He told her.

He put another strip of tape on the gauze to hold it in place as he remarked, "I heard what happened at the church. Bits and pieces anyway. You're lucky to be alive."

Massie felt numb and a little disoriented. She was finding it difficult to concentrate. She thought the doctor had asked her a question, but she wasn't certain, and she was too weary to ask him to repeat it.

"The nurse will help you get into a hospital gown." Dr. Benchley said.

Where was Derrick? Was he out there with her brother or had he left? She wanted him to take her in his arms and hold her. She moved her leg and bit her lip to keep from crying out. It felt like it was on fire.

The doctor was turning to leave when he heard her whisper, "I think it's bleeding again. Could I have a Band-aid?"

Benchley turned around. "You need stitches in your arm. Remember I told you that the plastic surgeon was on his way?"

He was talking to her as though she were a child. He held up two fingers and asked her how many she saw.

"Two." She answered, squinting against the penlight he was shining in her eyes. "I was talking about my leg." She explained. "I fell down and it's bleeding."

The queasiness was getting worse and deep breaths didn't seem to be helping.

Benchley lifted her skirt and saw the blood on her slip. "What have we got here?" he asked as he gently pushed the slip up over her knee and then lifted her leg. He examined the bloody wound.

She couldn't see the injury. The skirt was in her way. "I just need a Band-aid."

"You sure do." He agreed. "But first, we're going to need to remove the bullet."

The curtain parted and Dr. Benchley came out. Upon seeing him, Derrick immediately went to stand in front of him and blocked his way.

"So?" He demanded.

Dr. Benchley deliberately ignored him. He was looking at Massie's brothers when he said, "It appears that your sister had been shot. She's going into surgery in a few minutes now." He ended the statement in a near shout to be heard over Derrick's loud train of profanities.

"What the hell do you mean she was shot?" Derrick roared. "What kind of a place are you running here?"

Dr. Benchley raised his hand in a conciliatory gesture. "Hey, Buddy, I didn't shoot her." He shouted back.

Derrick was now shaking with anger. His hands were balled into fists and his knuckles were white. Spencer and Aiden thought he was ready to shoot someone. And they also thought, without a doubt, that Benchley was the first target in his mind.

Spencer put his hand on Derrick's shoulder as if restraining him. "Calm down, man. Let Dr. Benchley do his job. She'll be fine. She'll be fine." He soothed him.

Derrick slowly calmed down though he was still seething when the doctor went back to Massie. He let Spencer steer him to one of the benches.

"I'm going to shoot that doctor, Spence, and you won't be able to stop me." Derrick said through gritted teeth.

Spencer thought the best way to calm his best friend down was to let him have his way. "Sure, Derrick. You'll get your chance after he operates Massie."

Derrick turned to glare at Aiden. "You, too, Aiden. You won't be able to stop me, too."

Aiden nodded just to appease him. "I'm sure I won't be able to stop you."

Derrick closed his eyes, satisfied. For the moment, that is.

The surgeon had a busy evening. Pulling his cap off, he walked into the waiting room to report that Noah was in recovery. He assured Derrick, Aiden and Spencer that there hadn't been any surprises or complications and that the agent was going to be fine. Then he turned around to scrub again and operate on Massie. While he worked on her leg, the plastic surgeon stitched her arm.

A nurse gave Aiden his sister's watch and jewelries. Without a thought, he handed them to Derrick.

Massie wasn't in the operating room long, and for a short while she and Noah were in recovery together. She was still unconscious when was wheeled into a private room.

After checking on Noah, Derrick went to Massie's room and stayed with her all night. As soon as Noah was taken to ICU so that he could be closely monitored, Aiden went back to the abbey to change clothes. Then he returned to the hospital and sat with Noah.

Spencer, on the other hand, was busy talking to the media in one of the waiting areas and at the same time, reassuring Adam through the phone that their sister was okay.

Pete Morganstern arrived around two in the morning. He went to see Noah first. Aiden had fallen asleep in a chair but he woke up as Pete was reading Noah's chart. They went out into the hall to talk and then Aiden told him where he could find Massie and Derrick.

Derrick slept fitfully. In those random moments of consciousness, she called out to Derrick. The anesthetic was slow to wear off. She couldn't manage to open her eys but she felt him taking hold of her hand, and she would fall asleep again comforted by his soothing voice.

"Derrick?"

"I'm right here."

"I think I threw up on Dr. Benchley."

"That's my girl."

Another hour passed. "Derrick?"

"I'm still here, Mass."

She felt him squeeze her hand. "Did you tell Aiden we slept together?"

She heard a cough and then Derrick answered. "No, but you just did. He's standing right here with Spencer."

She fell asleep, but this time she didn't have any dreams or nightmares.

When Pete walked into the room, he saw Derrick bending over Massie. He stood there and watched him clasp the watch around her wrist and briefly but lovingly touch his lips against hers.

"How's she doing?" He asked, his voice low so he wouldn't disturb her.

"She's okay."

"What about you?"

"Not a scratch on me."

"That isn't what I'm asking."

They walked into the hallway to talk. Pete suggested they go down to the cafeteria but Derrick didn't want to leave Massie. He wanted to be there in case she called out to him again.

And so they sat together in the hallway in chairs Pete carried over from the nurses' station.

"I came over here for two reasons." He began. "First was to see Noah, of course."

"And the second reason?"

Pete sighed. "To talk to you and to apologize."

"I'm the one who messed up."

"No, that's not true." He said empathically. "I messed up, not you. I should have listened to you. When Brenner was arrested, you told me it didn't feel right to you and how did I respond? By ignoring everything I trained you to do. I was so certain you couldn't see the forest for the tress because of your personal involvement in this case. I ignored your instincts and that is a mistake I won't ever repeat. Do you realize how close to disaster we came to this time?"

Derrick nodded. He leaned back against the wall and stretched his legs out. "A lot of people would have been killed if that bomb went off."

Pete began to question Derrick then and didn't stop until he had heard every detail and was satisfied.

"Reading the article in the paper… yes, that's what set him off." Pete said.

"I guess so."

"His wife was almost perfect. That's what you heard him tell Massie?"

"Yes." Derrick said. "Stark's wife had to have known what was coming. Once Stark decided she couldn't get any better, that she was as perfect as she could be, he was going to kill her, just like he killed his mother. Knowing all the facts now, I think maybe her mind did snap and that's why she kidnapped the little boy."

"We'll never know what her motive was." Pete said. "If I were to speculate, I would suggest that perhaps she thought a family would change things."

"Turn him into a doting father?"

"Something like that."

"I think maybe she wanted to end it… let us get her instead of him."

Pete nodded. "You could be right. What about Massie?" He asked then.

"The doctors say she'll be okay."

"Are you going to be staying around?"

Derrick knew what Pete was asking. "I'll stay long enough to tell her how sorry I am I got her into all of this."

"And then?"

"I'm leaving." His mind was made up.

"I see."

He glanced over at Pete. "Damn. I really hate it when you say that. You sound like a shrink."

"You can't shield your heart, Derrick. Running away won't solve your problem."

"And you're going to tell me what my problem is, aren't you?"

"Of course I am." Pete agreed smoothly. "Loving Massie makes you human and that's what's frightening you. It's that simple."

"I'm not running away. I'm going back to work. What kind of a life could I offer her? She deserves to be happy and safe, damn it, and I can't guarantee that. Stark used her to get to me. It could happen again. God knows, I've made enemies since I started working for you. What if another creep comes after her? No, I can't let that happen. I won't take that chance."

"So you'll isolate yourself even more than you already have? Is that it?"

Derrick shrugged.

"You've made your mind up?" Pete pressed.

"Damn right. Now let it go."

"Just one more comment and then I'll stop hounding you. I promise. Actually, it's a question."

"What?" He asked. He sounded miserable.

"Where are you going to find the strength to leave her?"

**This is not the end of it! So you don't hafta kill me. :)) *victory dance* There's still one last and final chapter after this then, whala! Done done and done. :D**

**Review? **


	38. Chapter 36

**This chapter is dedicated to _, shadowinthedark13, _and _analuvsloganjb._**

**I own nothing. Last time for this story.**

Chapter 37

A week had passed since Noah was shot. The agent was recuperating at one of the hotel suites at the Hamilton Hotel in Manhattan but he was getting very little rest since all of Massie's brothers were in the city and were constantly in his room, talking about what had occurred last week and playing poker.

Aiden had just walked one of the chambermaids to the door, thanked her for the food and returned to the sitting room where the others were sprawled in various seats. Aiden dropped down in the easy chair and put his feet on the ottoman. He was catching Noah and the others up on the latest developments but he kept getting interrupted.

"Okay, where was I?"

"You were telling us what happened with Massie at the hospital." Adam answered, rather impatiently.

"Yeah, that's right. Neither Derrick, Spencer nor I knew Massie had a bullet lodged in her leg. So, the doctor comes out and tells us she's been shot. Derrick goes crazy then."

Spencer shook his head. "Seriously, I've never seen him so bent out of shape."

"Love will do that to a man." Noah said.

"I guess so." Aiden agreed. "He was already acting nuts but this news pushed him right over the edge."

"Yeah?" Noah asked, smiling. "I wish I could have seen it. He's always so cool and calm. What'd he do?"

"He starts shouting, 'What the hell do you mean she was shot? What kind of a place are running here?'"

Noah and Adam laughed. "Who was he yelling at?" Noah asked.

"Dr. Benchley. You met him, didn't you?"

"Yeah. He's a real charmer."

"He's shouting back at Derrick, 'Hey, Buddy, I didn't shoot her,' but Derrick's out of his mind now and I start to worry he's going to shoot Benchley."

"So, then what happened?" Adam prodded.

"Derrick wouldn't leave her side. He stayed with her all night but he told Pete and Spencer and me that, as soon as she woke up, he was going to say good-bye. He did, too. He shook her hand."

Adam and Noah burst into laughter. "What'd she do?" Adam asked.

"She called him an pighead and went back to sleep."

"I do love your sister." Noah said.

"Derrick was real determined. He had a lot of follow-up work to do and that kept him in Philly for a few days. They found Lonnie holed up in a motel outside the city. He's been charged with arson."

Noah snorted. "About time the damn kid pays for the things he'd done."

"I heard that Wesson's thinking about resigning." Spencer said.

The smile left Noah's eyes. "He should be encouraged to quit."

"You should cut the guy a little slack." Spencer said. "Derrick told me he made himself a target in the cabin, trying to divert Stark and help Derrick get a clear shot."

"It was too little, too late. I don't want to talk about Wesson. Pete already filled me in on what went down. So, tell us," he continued, "did Derrick leave or not?"

"She left him."

"No kidding. Where'd she go?"

"To Paris." Spencer was beaming when he added, "She won the lawsuit. She got every penny of her inheritance back, plus a heck of a lot of interest. She had to fly over to sign some papers."

"All's well that ends well."

"I didn't tell Derrick why she went."

Noah raised an eyebrow. "What did you tell him?"

Spencer shared a grin with his brothers and shrugged. "That she went to Paris."

"Implying that it was permanent?"

"I might have."

"There's no way in hell he went after her. Getting on a transatlantic flight. He'd never do that, not in a million years."

Aiden looked at his watch. "He should be landing in Paris any minute now."

Noah laughed again. "He is nuts. It was okay for him to leave her but he couldn't stomach the notion of her leaving him?"

"Actually, he got to the Philly airport before he turned around and drove back to Westchester. Then I had to tell him she was gone." Spencer said.

"Forever?"

Spencer nodded. "Tough love." He explained. "I love Derrick like a brother but I had to get tough."

"You mean you lied to him."

Spencer raised his hands in an innocent gesture. "Hey, I'm no saint."

Noah laughed. "Yeah, sure, you're not."

"All this talking about love's making me queasy." Adam said, standing up. "I think I'm heading down to the gym."

"He means, to the new blonde taebo instructor and get her to go out with him." Spencer whispered to Aiden and Noah when the door closed behind Adam.

"Well, you know what they say, when you get your heart injured, find another one to stitch it back." Noah said.

Massie was exhausted. She cried most of the way to Paris, and when she wasn't weeping, she was fuming because she had fallen in love with an idiot. She didn't get any sleep at all, and as soon as the plane landed, she had to go directly to the law firm's offices to sign the papers.

They wanted to celebrate. She wanted to go to Boston and find Derrick, but couldn't make up her mind what she would do once she found him. Once minuet she thought she would kiss him and the next she thought she would give him a piece of her mind, but then, she didn't know her mind anymore. She used to be such a practical, down-to-earth sort of woman, but Derrick changed her. She couldn't sleep, couldn't eat, she couldn't do anything but cry.

She checked into her suite at the Hamilton Hotel there and took a long, hot shower. She had pretty nightgowns stored in her closet there but she put on the red T-shit with the open-mouthed bass on the front instead.

How could he leave her? The tears started flowing again and that made her angry. She remembered his reaction when she'd told him she loved him. He'd looked horrified. She thought it was because she was complicating his life but now she stopped fooling herself and accepted the truth. He didn't love her. It was that simple.

Massie grabbed a Kleenex, got into bed, and called Claire to cry on her shoulder.

Claire answered on the first ring. She sounded sleepy. "If you're calling to tell me how sorry you are about the wedding, I forgive you, just like I did the last three times you called me in Hawaii. None of it was your fault. Okay? Mother forgives you. Daddy forgives you, and so do Cam and I."

"He left me, Claire."

Her friend was suddenly wide awake. "What do you mean, he left you? Derrick? Where are you anyway?"

"Paris." She answered, sniffling.

"You're crying, aren't you? You lost the lawsuit. Mass, I'm so sorry."

"I didn't lose."

"You mean you're rich again?"

"I suppose so."

"You don't sound very happy about it."

"Did you hear what I said? Derrick left me. I didn't tell you the last time I called, but he left me the day after the wedding. He shook my hand, Claire, and then he left. He doesn't love me."

"He shook your hand?" Claire burst into laughter.

"This is not funny. This phone call is costing money so be sympathetic and be fast."

"Okay." Claire said. "There, there. It will be alright."

"Now you're being sarcastic."

"Sorry." Claire murmured. "What are you going to do about him?"

"Nothing. He doesn't love me."

"I saw the way he was looking at you while you were dancing at the picnic. It's the same way he looks at me when… you know."

"That's lust, not love. I scared him."

"Oh, dear. You do have a knack for doing that. There's only one thing left to do." She advised. "You're going to have to go after him. Hunt him down."

Massie sighed. "You're not helping. I'm feeling miserable. I hate being in love."

"Go after him." She repeated.

"And then what? I can't make him love me. I hate feeling like this. If this is what love is all about, you can have it. You know what I'm going to do? I'm going to get on with my life and forget him. Yes, that's what I'm going to do."

"Okay." Claire agreed and Massie could hear the smile in her voice. "Just one question. How are you going to forget him?"

"I fell in love with him almost overnight, so it probably isn't the real thing. That makes sense, doesn't it?"

"Oh, please. Do you hear yourself? In your heart, you know this is not an infatuation. I fell in love with Cam after our first date. Sometimes it happens that way. I just knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him. Go after Derrick, Massie. Don't let pride mess this up."

"Pride doesn't have anything to do with it. If he loved me, he wouldn't have left me. It's over and I have to accept it."

Massie felt like her heart was shattering. Claire was talking now, but she wasn't listening. She interrupted her friend to say good-bye. She wanted to go home but she didn't know where that was anymore.

She called room service and ordered hot tea. Coping. That's what Derrick had told her she was doing when she fixed herself tea.

She was suddenly anxious to get out of Paris. She called the airline and moved her flight up. She could sleep on the plane, she thought. She got out of bed and started packing her bags again. She had just closed her overnight bag when there was a knock on her door. Tea had arrived. She grabbed a tissue on her way across the room and opened the door.

"Just put ─"

Derrick was standing in the corridor, glaring at her. She was so stunned to see him, she couldn't speak, couldn't move.

He looked awful. His hair was down in his face, his clothes looked like he'd slept in them, and his eyes looked haggard. She thought he looked beautiful.

"Did you even have the chain on? What were you thinking opening the door like that? I didn't hear the dead bolt. Was the door locked?"

She didn't answer him. She just stood there staring up at him with a stunned expression on her face. He could see she'd been crying. Her eyes were red and swollen. He had to nudge her back inside before he could shut the door.

"This is how you lock a door." He said as he turned the bolt.

He had her now. He leaned against the door so she couldn't get past him. He took a deep breath and the panicky feeling he'd been carrying around vanished. She was just a foot away from him and the world was suddenly making sense again.

"How did you find me?"

"I'm FBI. It's what we do. We find people who try to run. Damn it. Massie, how could you leave me like that? Without a word, you pack up and move to Paris? What the hell's the matter with you? Don't you know what you've put me through? What were you thinking?" He railed. "You can't tell someone you love him and then run away. That's just damn cruel."

Massie was trying to follow along, but Derrick was talking so fast and furiously, it was difficult. Why did he think she had moved to Paris? And what made him think she was running away from him?

She was going to demand an explanation as soon as she got over the fact that he was there, acting like a complete, adorable idiot.

"I'll quit." He said. He nodded to let her know he was serious. "If that's what it will take to get you to marry me, then by God, I'll quit."

He only then noticed she was wearing the T-shirt he'd bought her, and that conjured up all sorts of hot memories. He smiled that wonderful, melting smile of his, and then pointed at her and said, "You love me."

He tried to take her into his arms but she backed away. "You can't quit." She said.

"Yes, I can." He said. "I'll do whatever it takes to make you feel safe, but you've got to stop running. No matter where you go, I'll follow you. Damn it, Massie, I'm never going to let you leave me again."

She put her hand out to fend him off when he tried to grab her. "I wasn't running away. You left me, remember?"

"Yeah, well, I came back and you were gone. You sure didn't waste any time pinning away for me. I called Spencer and asked where the hell you were. He didn't even want to tell me where you'd gone but I made him."

She was starting to catch on. Her brother had played matchmaker. "And what did he tell you?"

"That you moved to Paris. It made me crazy knowing you were so far away." He admitted. "I have to have you in my life. I want to come home to you every night. I want to grow old with you. I need you, Mass."

She started crying again. He wouldn't let her back away from him this time. He pulled her into his arms and held her tight. He kissed her forehead as he whispered, "Will you marry me?"

"I won't marry a man who can't hold a job."

"Then I'll take the coordinator position they've offered me."

"No, what you do is too important. You have to promise me you won't stop."

"You mean it?"

"I love you, Derrick Harrington."

"I won't quit."

He nudged her chin up and leaned down. He kissed her passionately, letting her know how much he loved her.

"Marry me, Massie Block. Put me out of my misery."

Her head snapped back. She was suddenly looking stunned again.

"How did you get here?" She asked.

He wouldn't let her dodge his question. "Marry me." He repeated.

She smiled. "I want babies."

"So do I." He said. "With you, I want everything. Puppies, kittens, tadpoles. Name it. I'll be the neurotic father, worrying about them, but with you as their mother, they'll turn out alright. We'll be a good balance for them. As long as I have you by my side, anything is possible. I love you, sweetheart."

She was fervently kissing his neck. "I already know you love me."

"Yeah? When did you figure that out?"

She hoped their babies would have his blue eyes. They were so beautiful. "When I saw you at my door. That's when I knew you loved me. You got on plane and flew across an ocean for me."

He laughed. "Losing you was more terrifying. Besides, it wasn't that bad."

"Are you telling me you're over your phobia?"

"Sure I am." He choked.

She smiled, kissed him gently, and whispered. "We'll go home by boat."

**AWWWWW. We've come to an end already. Happy tears. Happy tears. Happy tears. :)))**

**I have a lot of people to thank so I will express my greatest thanks in a separate chapter / Author's Note. A short Author's Note is not enough. Definitely not. And I will also announce my decision whether or not I will make a sequel. I know you all have millions of questions, so please grill me with them. I will most joyfully answer them all. :) **

**So, don't waste any time and ask me those questions which I haven't answered before or some new ones or whatever. Just review and ask, alright? :)**


	39. Chapter 37

**Hey, guys. Okay, I've been thinking about it for the last few days and I came to a decision not to write a sequel. Yes, you've read it right. I'm not making a sequel to this story. But I have a new story coming up. It's a Dark Massington Romance set in London 1800s. I won't be posting the preview here right now because I have someplace to go and I won't be posting the story now or this week because school starts tomorrow which is a Monday in the Philippines. I can't promise when I'll be able to post it but just Author Alert me so that it would be easier for you to know whether or not I've posted it. **

**Thanks for everything. I really didn't expect to receive almost 500 reviews or is it 500 already? I don't know, I haven't checked. Anyways, till our next adventure...**

**Hugs and kisses,**

**Samantha (ESTF) **


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